Phantom Load

[Verse 1]
The bathroom scale blinks 175
on the cold tile of a Thursday at five.
He traces the line of a brand new jaw,
a topographical map of a personal law.
The signal is perfect, the numbers are clean,
the quietest victory you've ever seen.

[Chorus]
So this is the triumph, the final design,
a blueprint that works but the feeling's not mine.
Just a low-level hum where the weight used to be,
a phantom load drawing power from me.

[Verse 2]
His trainer had said, "Gotta shock the system."
Now every old sweater, he can't even fit them.
The Silver Lake loop is a ghost in his knees,
he hears every echo through the eucalyptus trees.
It's a structural upgrade, a civic success,
but the load-bearing columns feel the hollowness.

[Chorus]
So this is the triumph, the final design,
a blueprint that works but the feeling's not mine.
Just a low-level hum where the weight used to be,
a phantom load drawing power from me.

[Bridge]
The feedback is perfect, the comments all praise.
Just a high-frequency buzz from the bygone days.
He looks in the mirror for somebody else,
a project completed, left on the shelf.

[Outro]
The scale blinks again. The signal is lost.