Lyric

Window seat to fading neon lines

City shrinks behind the dirty glass

Head against the trembling frame

Billboards blur and lose their names

Tire noise hums a restless drone

Like a song I almost know

Reflections in the window pane

Stack my face with strangers’ trains

Every station sliding by

Holds a life I didn’t try

We are moving, barely breathing

Past the corners we outgrew

I keep tracing in the glass

Every road that missed you

Window seat to fading neon

Carrying the nights we used to lean on

All the colors draining slow

Into black and silver snow

If you’re somewhere under some late sign still turned on

I’m the ghost in this window seat to fading neon

Empty seats and headphone hiss

Hands I never learned to miss

Overhead a plastic sky

Maps the distance in my eyes

Messages I didn’t send

Scroll like credits at the end

In the glow across my knees

You’re a line I still don’t read

Every turn and every bridge

Lays a wire through what we were

In the flicker, in the dark

Something beats but won’t return

Indow seat to fading neon

Carrying the words we never agreed on

All the colors draining slow

Into black and silver snow

If you’re somewhere under some late sign barely on

I’m the blur in this window seat to fading neon

Morning waits beyond this road

Pale horizons turning gold

I won’t circle back to you

But I won’t erase you too

In the glass I see my face

Without reaching for your trace

For the first time in a while

I can breathe into the miles

If I let the daylight in

On the seats where ghosts have grown

I can keep what had to fade

Without taking it back home

Window seat to fading neon

Carrying a version I can move on

All the colors draining slow

Into black and silver snow

If you’re somewhere under some late sign, not yet gone

Know I’m leaving in this window seat to fading neon

City falls away and I stay on

Just a pulse in a window seat to fading neon