Glass Kingdom Prayer

[Verse 1]
Peachtree tower, 3:17 on a Tuesday, screen number two.
She’s pulling the thread on her sleeve, he’s staring straight through.
White marble floor reflecting the light like a frozen-over lake.
I know that silence, the pressure that builds right before the break.
The server farm hums a low drone in the key of my own mistake.
They’re a blueprint for a ghost I already watched us make.
He’s checking his watch, she’s mouthing a word that I can’t quite place.
Just cataloging the damage, another night shift, another cold case.

[Chorus]
Oh, glass kingdom, thank you for the signal, coming in clean.
Showed me the footage, the final cut of another dead scene.
Yeah, glass kingdom, thank you for the echo, louder than prayer.
Showed me the fault line, a crack in the lobby, the bad in the air.

[Verse 2]
Remember the heat in our matchbox off Moreland, the fan couldn’t turn.
The cicadas were screaming, a lesson in patience I never could learn.
You traced the water stain over the bed, looked just like a state line.
Said, "'This whole damn thing’s got bad wiring,' you knew it was a sign."
And I see how she holds her car keys, a weapon held deep in her fist.
Same way you held yours on the countertop, making a list.
Of all of the circuits that shorted, the fuses we blew just to stay warm.
Observing the wreckage from thirty floors up in the eye of the storm.

[Chorus]
Oh, glass kingdom, thank you for the signal, coming in clean.
Showed me the footage, the final cut of another dead scene.
Yeah, glass kingdom, thank you for the echo, louder than prayer.
Showed me the fault line, a crack in the lobby, the bad in the air.

[Bridge]
He drops a single gold cufflink, it rolls near her shoe.
Neither one bends to retrieve it. Nothing to do.
Just static on channel six, a ghost in the wire.
A controlled demolition, perfect by design.

[Outro]
Logbook entry, 03:20. All quiet now.
Just the sound of the city breathing, somehow.