[Intro] “Is it just me… or did the Wi-Fi die? Check your phone. Check the router. Check your soul.” [Verse 1] We had playlists, streaming snow on the TV screen, Christmas movie lined up, autoplay on scene. Kids with tablets stacked like little shrines of light, everybody ready for a “cozy family night”. Then the loading circle starts to spin and freeze, someone mutters prayers to the gods of 5G. Router blinking like it’s having second thoughts, one more error message and the room is lost. [Pre-Chorus] We’re one bar away from calling this a crime, refresh, reset, for the fifteenth time. [Chorus] Silent night, no Wi-Fi, all is gone from the digital sky. No more scroll, no more stream, just our faces and this weird shared scream. Silent night, no Wi-Fi, all our apps left high and dry. Guess we’ll have to talk a bit, look at each other, deal with it. [Tag] Holy glitch, holy fright, who killed the feed to save our night? [Verse 2] Someone’s on a video call, frozen mid-smile, someone says, “Don’t touch it, give it a while.” Dad’s in the corner doing tech-support spells, “Turn it off and on again” like Christmas carol bells. Kids look shocked like someone cancelled New Year’s Eve, “Does this mean we actually have to… talk and breathe?” We stare at board games buried on the dusty shelf, like ancient relics from a time before our online selves. Emmy asks, dead serious, “Mom, were you fun before the internet?” and the room goes quiet in a way that stings a bit. [Pre-Chorus 2] We’re one scroll away from losing it, I guess, this Wi-Fi-shaped addiction we can finally confess. [Chorus] Silent night, no Wi-Fi, all the blue light fades and dies. No more reels, no more feeds, just our laughter and our real-life needs. Silent night, no Wi-Fi, our filtered selves walk past. Guess we’ll have to sing off-key, embrace the flaws and just be free. [Bridge] Someone lights a candle, someone hums a tune, shadows making stories on the ceiling of the room. We pass around a deck of cards like it’s contraband, kids learn how to shuffle with their actual hands. We talk about the year, not in captions but in sighs, say the things we never post beneath our crafted lives. For a minute it gets quiet, but not the empty kind, more like space where something soft remembers how to shine. [Breakdown] No Wi-Fi, no costume, no “I’m fine” in perfect bloom. No Wi-Fi, no escape, so we meet each other’s face. Pull the plug, hear the house breathe, watch the panic lose its teeth. If this glitch can make us real, maybe that’s the part that heals. [Final Chorus] Silent night, no Wi-Fi, Emmy’s question still won’t die. No more noise to drown the sound of the people who are here right now. Silent night, no Wi-Fi, we survive without the sky. If this chaos counts as grace, let the signal drop in every place. [Outro] Router came back at 00:03. Nobody rushed to check. We were busy being here.
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