Come again, through the static and the rain,
ghost in the wire, humming my name.
I left the porch light burning in a blackout sun,
singing to the dial tone, waiting for the rerun.
You’re the glitch in my guitar, the laugh in the lo-fi,
every skipped beat says “still not goodbye.”
So spin that broken record, let the night rerun—
if the sky don’t rewind, I’ll splice it by hand.
Come again, any wavelength you can,
I’ll be the last station that understands.