Balcony Conversations

They rewrite the text until it's dull

But we feel the magic in the skull

Underneath the balcony, the group chat glows

(oh-oh-oh) Standing on the balcony,

looking at the street

Trading crystal-shop theories, everything's sweet

In the mall metaphysical aisle,

buying some sage

Turning over a brand new page

Drafting a reply that we will never send

Wondering if the signal's gonna bend (yeah)

They rewrite the text until it's dull

But we feel the magic in the skull

Underneath the balcony, the group chat glows (oh-oh-oh)

Your screen illuminates the midnight air

We're searching for alignment everywhere

Analyzing charts on the bedroom floor Always wanting something more

Crystal-shop mania, high-vibe state We don't need a text to validate

(we don't need it,

no)

They rewrite the text until it's dull

But we feel the magic in the skull

Underneath the balcony, the group chat glows (oh-oh-oh)

Just a glowing screen on the balcony

(glowing so bright)