[Intro]
Soft breath, a door clicks and I float through the hall
Shadows stretch like questions on the walls I know so well
[Verse 1]
I am the watcher, pale and patient, ink on glass
Watching the kettle rise, watching minutes pass
The world keeps spinning, yet my hands stay still and thin
I walk the same floorboards, but the echoes aren’t kin
[Pre-Chorus]
If I vanish into the light between breaths,
Who holds the morning, who writes the names on our steps?
[Chorus]
Presence feels like a whisper I cannot touch
A quiet question in a body grown unused
Am I here, or just a witness in the rain of time?
I ask the room, and the room answers in sighs that rhyme
[Verse 2]
Cup in the kitchen hums with a distant, safe glow
I trace the kettle’s arc, but it doesn’t say “hello”
The street outside wears a familiar mood of ash and sleep,
And every sound feels borrowed, distant, and incomplete
[Pre-Chorus]
If the mirrors lie, where does the self reside,
In the breath that hesitates or the truth inside?
[Chorus]
Presence feels like a whisper I cannot touch
A quiet question in a body grown unused
Am I here, or just a witness in the rain of time?
I ask the room, and the room answers in sighs that rhyme
[Bridge]
Maybe being here is simply staying still long enough to listen
To the soft thrum of bones and the quiet engine of existing
[Chorus]
Presence feels like a whisper I cannot touch
A quiet question in a body grown unused
Am I here, or just a witness in the rain of time?
I ask the room, and the room answers in sighs that rhyme
[Outro]
So I linger, not to own, but to acknowledge the light I pass through
A gentle veil, a patient pause, a presence turning true
