(Verse 1)

Fingers like knives behind a velvet smile,

Counting every breath, catalysing the miles.

Speak in riddles, pinch the seam, expose the thread,

Maps of fault-lines crawling under skin and bed.

Shadows lean forward, whisper paper-thin,

Names scrawled on the inside of your rhythm and your sin.

A mirror holds a grin that learns to lie,

Every small mistake becomes a blade to try.

(Pre-Chorus)

They tally heartbeats, sharpen words like law,

Turn a word to warfare, twist the shape you were.

(Chorus)

Close your eyes — the room rearranges,

Echoes sharpen into dangerous changes.

You’re not wrong, you’re not whole, you can’t keep the light,

They feed the margins, then they starve the bright.

Hold your pulse against the glass,

Feel the hush that comes, the hush that snaps.

(Verse 2)

Polished teeth of silver, pick at every seam,

Goad the quiet animal, motor of the scream.

Sirens in a dialect that scratches bone,

Measure out the faults and throw them like a stone.

Tightrope over trenches where the soft things fall,

They find your loose threads and make architecture of gall.

A courtroom of shadows, judges without name,

Sentence stitched in sugarcoated bits of blame.

(Pre-Chorus)

They tally heartbeats, sharpen words like law,

Turn a breath into a verdict, forge the iron jaw.

(Chorus)

Close your eyes — the room rearranges,

Echoes sharpen into dangerous changes.

You’re not wrong, you’re not whole, you can’t keep the light,

They feed the margins, then they starve the bright.

Hold your pulse against the glass,

Feel the hush that comes, the hush that snaps.

(Bridge)

Whisper-slick, it slips beneath the tongue,

A question is a hook, a phrase becomes a rung.

Do you feel the crawl? — the counting in the seam?

Do you hear the match of meaning, hollow as a dream?

(Breakdown)

Pin it down! Pin it down!

Find the grain, pull the crown!

Split it open, track the flaw!

Hunt the fracture, break the law!

Silent tally — louder now.

Feeding the thin places — watch them bow.

You fight the looping, the tight-mouth sound,

You claw the numbers till they drown.

(Chorus)

Close your eyes — the room rearranges,

Echoes sharpen into dangerous changes.

You’re not wrong, you’re not whole, you can’t keep the light,

They feed the margins, then they starve the bright.

Hold your pulse against the glass,

Feel the hush that comes, the hush that snaps.

(Outro)

A ledger of glances, a ledger of sighs,

They draw the map of consequences in your eyes.

In the hush after the verdict, there’s a small, stubborn thread —

A flicker in the margins where the light is not yet dead.

(Song fades out)