[Verse 1] From the street it looks so ordinary White shutters that never quite close Tidy lawn in careful lines Afternoon light settles polite on the porch Neighbors wave without stopping Never glance at the half-lidded windows Lights go out at the same precise hour No one knocks after dark They praise it from the curb So quiet, so well-kept, so peaceful Admiration settles on the roof Like a quiet crown [Chorus] But inside the house keeps its weather Rooms colder than the thermostat claims Air thins slow until every breath is measured Terror doesn’t crash like a storm It arrives as the knowledge That the climate can turn any second You shrink to fit the smaller space The walls take your voice and keep it Leaving only dense velvet quiet With a metallic taste on the tongue Silence pressing like a cool unseen film That never lifts [Verse 2] Furniture remembers the weight Chair holds the outline of someone Who sat very still for a long time Hands pressed flat to the table To keep from trembling Drawers open only so far Phone sits polite, signal swallowed No letter leaves, no call connects You learn to make yourself smaller Quieter, less surface to strike Your own heartbeat becomes thunder No one else will ever hear While the silence rests on your neck With the weight of a hand that does not move [Chorus] Inside the house keeps its weather Hallways stretch longer at night Doorways narrow as you pass Ceiling drops in increments too small to prove You try to open a window wider It stops at the same place it always has Terror silences by making speech costly The safest voice never leaves the throat Hope of someone noticing Answered only by the ordinary street Muffled, unreachable [Bridge] Guests leave saying how peaceful it is They never see the mirrors that won’t hold a face Clocks that run slow in certain rooms Friends stop asking Family gets only the replies the house allows Isolation complete Because nothing looks wrong From any distance greater than the front walk The praise settles on the one who controls the weather Like quiet glory While the one inside grows smaller In the thinning air [Final Chorus / Outro] This is what the house never speaks: Terror shrinks the victim Until only compliance remains It glorifies the one who rules the climate By showing a perfect peaceful face Silence is the final instrument It does not strike It simply continues Thickening, pressing Stealing the air in increments No outsider will ever measure The house needs no locks It rearranges itself around you Tightening by degrees Until the rooms fit too perfectly Until the air itself Becomes something you measure With every careful, failing breath And still from the street It looks like any other house Quiet, well-kept, ordinary While inside the climate continues Unrecorded, unremarked The last usable air thinning Into a silence no one ever hears Dense enough to touch Heavy enough to taste Cool against every inch of skin And final enough That no one ever comes to break it Silence is a silent killer Praised from the street as peace.
