History of Violence

Movies for the Blind

Red Cafe  Put It In The Air

Art of Words

Dirty Work

Royal Blu

The Same OG

Blaze With Us

Gotta Build

Y'all Been Missing Out

Crownsville

Kings County

Room light dim, hum of the fridge on loop
Steam from the bowl draws a ghost in the soup
Phone screen glowing like a tired moon
Silence at the table plays its quiet tune

One chair pulled, other three untouched
Dinner for one but the weight is too much
Microwave sings like a campfire glow
Modern little flame for a world too slow
Notifications blink like artificial sparks
Trying to warm shadows that live in the dark
Table connectée, âme débranchée au fond
I scroll to remember I'm not alone
Cutlery still wrapped in the plastic bag
I eat to the beat of a digital lag
Messages float like smoke rings died
Ghosts in the chat typing from the other side
Leftovers soft like an unfinished thought
Silence is the story that nobody taught

Silence at the table, screen for a friend
Warm meal cooling while the minutes bend
Heart unplugged in a wired-up town
Modern fire flickers when the lights go down
Silence at the table, echo in the bowl
Lo-fi shadows leaning on my soul
Microwave glow like a campfire sign
Alone with the world on a fragile line

Steam fades out, room stays cold
Messages read but the warmth’s on hold
Fork hits the plate like a thin heartbeat
Rhythm of a dinner that can’t compete
Posters peeling in the corner of the wall
Dust writes poems where the lamps don’t fall
Worry in the cracks of the wood I touch
Silence fills the chair that I miss too much
I take one bite, hear the city outside
Taxis drift slow like a digital tide
Even the shadows sit down for the meal
Every empty space knows the way I feel
Clock ticks low like it’s half asleep
Time drips soft in a lo-fi sweep

Silence at the table, screen for a friend
Warm meal cooling while the minutes bend
Heart unplugged in a wired-up town
Modern fire flickers when the lights go down
Silence at the table, echo in the bowl
Lo-fi shadows leaning on my soul
Microwave glow like a campfire sign
Alone with the world on a fragile line

Night pulls close as I clear my tray
Lonely little ritual at the end of day
Microwave door clicks shut like a sigh
Embers of the blue screen lighting my eye
I speak to the room but it speaks back none
Only the hum of appliances won
Table set for a guest who never arrived
All my invitations left unsent, archived
I fold the napkin like a note unread
Thoughts spill warm but the plate stays dead
Sometimes I picture another chair filled
But the scene rewinds before it can build
So I breathe slow, let the moment stay
Silence at the table is my only way

Silence at the table, screen for a friend
Warm meal cooling while the minutes bend
Heart unplugged in a wired-up town
Modern fire flickers when the lights go down
Silence at the table, echo in the bowl
Lo-fi shadows leaning on my soul
Microwave glow like a campfire sign
Alone with the world on a fragile line

Room cools down, heartbeat low
One last glance at the afterglow
Table sits still like a muted fable
Silence says grace at an empty table

You Aint Built Like That

Papoose