You Don't Know Me

Every day I steal from the neighbors and return it to you

saw you on a screen again

your face, a quiet hurricane

something in the way you move

makes me feel like I could bruise

I’m nobody in your world

just a ghost behind the swirl

your name’s a song I can’t unhear

but I’m still stuck back here

you don’t know me, but I see you clear

like a secret I keep year to year

behind the lights, behind the noise

I dream your voice, not just your poise

you’re too far, but I reach in sleep

some love’s too soft, some wounds too deep

you don’t know me —

but I know you

late nights, your shadow glows

in places I don’t let them know

you’re the silence in my sound

the lost thing I never found

I write songs you’ll never hear

in a room that’s built from fear

your world’s gold, mine’s just grey

but I’d still give myself away

maybe one day, you’ll feel it too

a strange pull you can’t undo

maybe you’ll see through all the fame

and wonder if I had a name

you don’t know me, but I breathe you in

like air that hurts beneath the skin

behind the glass, behind the blue

you don’t know me —

but I know you