Intro (mumbled low over crackling static, single low guitar note, and faint digital hum) Screen glow at 3am again… Cursor blinking like it knows something I don’t. Verse 1 You flicker in the feed, pixels sharp enough to cut, I drop a line into the void, watch it sink without a thud. Your replies come shorter every time, like signal getting thin, I read between the dots and dashes, chasing where you’ve been. City lights outside my window feel further than your name, I scroll through layers you left open, never quite the same. Pre-Chorus Something shifts behind the glass, A door closing in slow motion. Chorus I want the wires underneath, the static in your code, But every word I send just makes the distance overload. It grates, this quiet drag, like gravel in the throat, You’re half-there in the blue light, and I’m the echo note. Pulling back, pulling black, through the screen’s cold vein, I bite down harder just to taste the rain. Verse 2 Late replies hit different when the night’s already thick, You vanish mid-conversation like a ghost flipping the switch. I type out careful questions, delete half before they land, Studying your profile shadows like they’re lines across my hand. The more I lean into the glow, the more the glow retreats, Funny how the closest thing feels furthest down these streets. Pre-Chorus Cursor waits, the silence hums, Another unread thread going numb. Chorus I want the wires underneath, the static in your code, But every word I send just makes the distance overload. It grates, this quiet drag, like gravel in the throat, You’re half-there in the blue light, and I’m the echo note. Pulling back, pulling black, through the screen’s cold vein, I bite down harder just to taste the rain. Rap Verse (gritty, low-slung flow over distorted bass knocks and glitchy snares) Username like a hook in the dark, I’m the fool on the line, Typing paragraphs at midnight, editing out the obvious signs. You log off clean while I’m still buffering the ache, Refresh, refresh, chase the green dot that won’t stay awake. More I push the thread, more you fade into the blur, I’m the unread message sitting heavy in the server. Not begging, just burning slow in this digital dirt, Pull away harder baby, make the silence hurt… worth it. Verse 3 Your stories flash and disappear before I catch the frame, Little pieces of a life I’m not supposed to claim. I laugh at memes you post like we’re sharing secret air, Then the block feels heavier when you don’t meet me there. Online’s a funny trap—feels close until it don’t, I’m mapping constellations from the dots you leave alone. Verse 4 Mornings I wake up to nothing, screen already cold, Wonder if you even notice how the conversation’s old. The pull is there in fragments, jagged edges in the chat, I chew on every silence like it’s something I can crack. Frustrating how the distance grows with every word I throw, Still I keep the window open, watching signals come and go. Bridge (voice raw and cracked, guitars swelling with feedback and broken electronics) If this glass ever cracked open, would the real you look away? Or lean into the mess I’m carrying from yesterday? I’m not asking for the moon, just a thread that doesn’t snap, This back-and-forth is wearing grooves where the wanting overlaps. Fuck it… let it pull. Verse 5 Another night, another scroll through the archive of almost, Your avatar staring back like it’s keeping its own secrets close. I want behind the filter, past the curated glow, But every time I get near, the current says “no.” Raw around the edges, not broken, just alive, In this half-connected dark where real things go to hide. Outro (layered voices fading into digital noise and dying guitar hum) Static pull… half-there… Screen glow… gone somewhere… Still typing… into the black… Fades.
