REFLEX

Devastatingly intimate solo-piano ballad, 65 BPM, 4/4, vulnerable acoustic storytelling, ONE instrument throughout: warm, natural grand piano, delicate sustained chords, sparse melodic movement, gentle human timing, subtle pedal resonance, Fully human mid-30s Australian male baritone, unmistakable natural Australian accent, deep chest resonance, gravelly warmth, intimate close-mic detail, audible breaths, fragile vocal texture, Verses delivered almost conversationally, quietly wounded and painfully sincere, Melodic choruses ache with restrained longing, subtle vocal cracks and natural emotional strain, Bridge becomes whispered and hesitant, surrounded by silence, G, P, technical rap progressively accelerates into frantic, breathless confession over unchanged slow piano, Final chorus breaks emotionally without becoming theatrical, Outro returns to exhausted near-whisper, Exposed human performance, natural room acoustics, exceptional vocal clarity

There's this stupid thing I do now.

I wait for you to look up.

I hate that I wait.

You used to watch me getting dressed, leaning in the door,
Make us late for everything, then pull me back for more.
Now I step out of the shower, water dripping from my hair,
You're laughing at your phone and barely notice that I'm there.

I stand a second longer, say I'm looking for my shirt,
Give you time to notice me, then dress before it hurts.
And I feel ridiculous for needing you to stare,
When I never had to wonder if you wanted me back then.

I know you haven't meant to hurt me,
Maybe nothing's wrong to you.
But if I have to ask you to want me,
How will I know you really do?

I DON'T WANT A KISS BECAUSE I ASKED FOR IT,
I MISS THE ONE YOU'D STEAL BEFORE I LEFT.
I MISS YOUR HAND REACHING OUT WITHOUT A REASON,
THE WAY YOU'D PULL ME BACK INTO BED.

AND I KNOW YOU LOVE ME,
GOD, I KNOW YOU DO.
BUT I CAN'T TELL IF YOU STILL WANT ME
THE WAY I STILL WANT YOU.

You used to fall asleep with one hand resting on my back,
Now I lie there being careful not to reach and pull you back.
Sometimes your knee brushes mine, I wonder if it's meant,
Then you turn to fix your pillow, I pretend I didn't tense.

We still make dinner, split the washing, talk about our day,
Laugh about the neighbour's dog, then put the plates away.
I wore that shirt you always liked. You asked if we had bread.
I said, "Yeah, I bought some yesterday," and swallowed what I'd meant.

You still make my coffee right, remember things I always lose,
You haven't stopped being thoughtful, that's what makes this so confused.
I can't point to something awful, can't explain what went so wrong,
Just the way I feel beside you when I've wanted you all along.

And I'm scared to tell you plainly,
'Cause I know you'll try tonight.
And I'll spend the whole time wondering
If you're only being kind.

I WORE THE SHIRT YOU USED TO TAKE OFF ME,
STOOD BESIDE YOU, WAITING FOR A LOOK.
YOU ASKED ME WHAT WAS WRONG, I SAID "NOTHING,"
AND HATED HOW MUCH EFFORT "NOTHING" TOOK.

AND I KNOW YOU LOVE ME,
YOU SHOW ME IN THE THINGS YOU DO.
SO WHY AM I STARTING TO HATE MY BODY
FOR NOT GETTING THROUGH TO YOU?

I've started counting.

Not how often you turn me down.

How often I almost touch you...

Then talk myself out of it.

And there's something I've wanted to ask.

Something I'm terrified to know.

If I stopped trying to touch you...

How long would it take before you noticed?

I check the bathroom mirror underneath a brighter light,
Change my shirt, then change it back, then tell myself I'm fine.
I've been reading into pauses, into where you put your hands,
Turning ordinary evenings into tests you never planned.

When you're tired, I take it personally; I know that's fucking unfair,
So I swallow every question, then resent you unaware.
I rehearse a conversation on the drive back from the shops,
But you smile and ask me how I am, and every sentence stops.

I've mistaken being careful for a way to keep the peace,
Now I'm scared to brush against you when we're lying in the sheets.
Bought the soap you used to notice, wore the clothes you used to like,
Then got angry with myself for thinking that might work tonight.

I miss being interrupted by a kiss halfway through talking,
Miss you pulling me against you when you'd catch me in the morning.
And I'm frightened if I ask you what the hell has changed between us,
You'll say nothing, kiss my forehead, and I'll never fucking bring it up.

I don't want you feeling guilty.

I don't want you pretending.

I just...

I miss feeling attractive to you.

And I hate how fucking small that sounds.

I DON'T WANT A KISS JUST 'CAUSE I'M CRYING,
OR YOUR ARMS AROUND ME 'CAUSE I'M HURT.
I WANT TO KNOW YOU'D STILL REACH OUT TO TOUCH ME
IF I NEVER MADE THE FIRST MOVE.

AND I KNOW YOU LOVE ME,
I BELIEVE YOU WHEN YOU SAY IT.

BUT I STOPPED REACHING FOR YOU SIX NIGHTS AGO...

AND YOU HAVEN'T NOTICED, HAVE YOU?

Last night you pulled the blanket up
When you thought that I was cold.

You kissed my forehead half-asleep.

Then turned away again.

I lay there for a while.

You asked if I was alright.

I nearly told you.

I said, "Yeah."

And you believed me.

4164/7500

There's this stupid thing I do now. I wait for you to look up. I hate that I wait. You used to watch me getting dressed, leaning in the door, Make us late for everything, then pull me back for more. Now I step out of the shower, water dripping from my hair, You're laughing at your phone and barely notice that I'm there. I stand a second longer, say I'm looking for my shirt, Give you time to notice me, then dress before it hurts. And I feel ridiculous for needing you to stare, When I never had to wonder if you wanted me back then. I know you haven't meant to hurt me, Maybe nothing's wrong to you. But if I have to ask you to want me, How will I know you really do? I DON'T WANT A KISS BECAUSE I ASKED FOR IT, I MISS THE ONE YOU'D STEAL BEFORE I LEFT. I MISS YOUR HAND REACHING OUT WITHOUT A REASON, THE WAY YOU'D PULL ME BACK INTO BED. AND I KNOW YOU LOVE ME, GOD, I KNOW YOU DO. BUT I CAN'T TELL IF YOU STILL WANT ME THE WAY I STILL WANT YOU. You used to fall asleep with one hand resting on my back, Now I lie there being careful not to reach and pull you back. Sometimes your knee brushes mine, I wonder if it's meant, Then you turn to fix your pillow, I pretend I didn't tense. We still make dinner, split the washing, talk about our day, Laugh about the neighbour's dog, then put the plates away. I wore that shirt you always liked. You asked if we had bread. I said, "Yeah, I bought some yesterday," and swallowed what I'd meant. You still make my coffee right, remember things I always lose, You haven't stopped being thoughtful, that's what makes this so confused. I can't point to something awful, can't explain what went so wrong, Just the way I feel beside you when I've wanted you all along. And I'm scared to tell you plainly, 'Cause I know you'll try tonight. And I'll spend the whole time wondering If you're only being kind. I WORE THE SHIRT YOU USED TO TAKE OFF ME, STOOD BESIDE YOU, WAITING FOR A LOOK. YOU ASKED ME WHAT WAS WRONG, I SAID "NOTHING," AND HATED HOW MUCH EFFORT "NOTHING" TOOK. AND I KNOW YOU LOVE ME, YOU SHOW ME IN THE THINGS YOU DO. SO WHY AM I STARTING TO HATE MY BODY FOR NOT GETTING THROUGH TO YOU? I've started counting. Not how often you turn me down. How often I almost touch you... Then talk myself out of it. And there's something I've wanted to ask. Something I'm terrified to know. If I stopped trying to touch you... How long would it take before you noticed? I check the bathroom mirror underneath a brighter light, Change my shirt, then change it back, then tell myself I'm fine. I've been reading into pauses, into where you put your hands, Turning ordinary evenings into tests you never planned. When you're tired, I take it personally; I know that's fucking unfair, So I swallow every question, then resent you unaware. I rehearse a conversation on the drive back from the shops, But you smile and ask me how I am, and every sentence stops. I've mistaken being careful for a way to keep the peace, Now I'm scared to brush against you when we're lying in the sheets. Bought the soap you used to notice, wore the clothes you used to like, Then got angry with myself for thinking that might work tonight. I miss being interrupted by a kiss halfway through talking, Miss you pulling me against you when you'd catch me in the morning. And I'm frightened if I ask you what the hell has changed between us, You'll say nothing, kiss my forehead, and I'll never fucking bring it up. I don't want you feeling guilty. I don't want you pretending. I just... I miss feeling attractive to you. And I hate how fucking small that sounds. I DON'T WANT A KISS JUST 'CAUSE I'M CRYING, OR YOUR ARMS AROUND ME 'CAUSE I'M HURT. I WANT TO KNOW YOU'D STILL REACH OUT TO TOUCH ME IF I NEVER MADE THE FIRST MOVE. AND I KNOW YOU LOVE ME, I BELIEVE YOU WHEN YOU SAY IT. BUT I STOPPED REACHING FOR YOU SIX NIGHTS AGO... AND YOU HAVEN'T NOTICED, HAVE YOU? Last night you pulled the blanket up When you thought that I was cold. You kissed my forehead half-asleep. Then turned away again. I lay there for a while. You asked if I was alright. I nearly told you. I said, "Yeah." And you believed me.

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