SMOKE RINGS [Verse 1] Late-night shadows leaning on the wall, One dim lamp making giants of us all. The record turns slow with a crackle and a hiss, Every passing moment feels as temporary as this. I breathe out a circle and watch it climb, Perfect for a second, then erased by time. Nothing stays whole, nothing keeps its shape— It bends into the darkness and quietly escapes. [Pre-Chorus] Round and round, then gone from sight, Little gray halos floating through the light. [Chorus] Smoke rings, drifting through the room, Silver little circles that are born and vanish soon. Smoke rings, carrying my thoughts, Holding all the answers that I almost—but never—caught. Every perfect circle comes apart eventually; Maybe letting go is what it’s trying to teach me. Smoke rings, rising overhead— Ghosts of all the words I thought but never said. [Verse 2] Some carry faces from another place, Some carry years that I can’t replace. Some look like promises I meant to keep, Some fade like memories I buried too deep. The herb burns low while the mind runs wide, Opening the rooms that I keep locked inside. No revelation carved into a stone— Just a softer way to sit with the unknown. [Pre-Chorus] Round and round, then losing form, Calm within the middle while the edges meet the storm. [Chorus] Smoke rings, drifting through the room, Silver little circles that are born and vanish soon. Smoke rings, carrying my thoughts, Holding all the answers that I almost—but never—caught. Every perfect circle comes apart eventually; Maybe letting go is what it’s trying to teach me. Smoke rings, rising overhead— Ghosts of all the words I thought but never said. [Verse 3 | Rhythmic Delivery] I’ve chased solid answers through a liquid world, Watched straight lines bend and the edges curl. Built walls from certainty, watched doubt get in, Found every ending has an opening within. Maybe truth ain’t something that a fist can hold; Maybe wisdom breathes when the grip lets go. A thought becomes a circle, then the circle becomes air— And for one suspended second, I can see it hanging there. [Instrumental Break] [Bridge] Nothing is permanent, not sorrow, not flame, Not the face in the mirror, not the sound of a name. Every breath is borrowed, every hour takes wing, We appear for a moment— Like a perfect smoke ring. [Final Chorus] Smoke rings, drifting through the room, Silver little circles that are born and vanish soon. Smoke rings, carrying my thoughts, Holding all the answers that I almost—but never—caught. Every perfect circle comes apart eventually; Maybe letting go is what it’s trying to teach me. Smoke rings, rising overhead— Ghosts of all the words I thought but never said. [Outro] One more circle climbing through the light, Whole for just a heartbeat— Then swallowed by the night.
