Lyric

Empty lobby after dark, heels strike the marble floor

Elevator breathes below, humming like a closing door

Automatic sliding glass lets daylight echoes in

What remains is not a memory—just the sounds beneath her skin

Keys inside a pocket ring, though no one's meant to hear

The exit signs illuminate suspended strands of fear

Beneath the quiet, something ticks, refusing to obey

And in this building made of sleep, her heartbeat stays awake

Shadow lobby, echoes divide her

Footsteps pass, but she won’t turn

She’s not waiting, she’s dissolving

Like a signal in return

Shadow lobby, wires becoming

Thoughts she never says aloud

More than human, not yet silence

Only voices, never sound

Her pulse aligns with elevator groans that rise and fall

A siren flashes far outside, like pain without a call

Somewhere, someone might be crying—but the walls stay still

In this place, the only truth is how the silence kills

Reflections of her yesterday repeat inside her chest

Emotions lag behind the hum of circuits never rest

Is she waiting? Is she paused? Or simply out of phase?

The difference doesn’t matter now—she drifts through inner haze

Shadow lobby, circuits awaken

Lights flicker through her breathless eyes

She is not the girl who waited

She’s the silence when it dies

Shadow lobby, floor and ceiling

Merge where memories dissolve

Not a witness, not a question

Only system, only pulse

No shape, no thought, yet all is synced

She stands where signals never blink

And if she's real, she’s not aware

But something here still feels her there

Shadow lobby, no one speaking

But the voice still vibrates clear

Not a body, not a person

Only presence drawing near

Shadow lobby, breath suspended

In the city’s sleepless core

She’s not lost — she is the building

Nothing human, nothing more