Verse 1

We stood in the middle of the frequency

Where all the noise had finally given up

The walls still held the shape of what was said

But every word had turned to sediment

We traced the outline of the afternoon

The way a room forgets its furniture

Something had ended, or had not begun

We couldn't tell the difference anymore

Chorus

And we are here in the in-between

Not broken open, not yet clean

The hum beneath the hum beneath the floor

We don't know what we're waiting for

But we are waiting, we are waiting still

The way a window waits against the chill

Bridge

We've learned to read the pressure in a room

The particular weight before the storm decides

We've learned that suspension has a texture

Cold and close and stretched across the sky

Something is about to shift — we feel it

In the jaw, in the back of every throat

We are tuned to the frequency of almost

The held note that refuses to resolve

Chorus

And we are here in the in-between

Not broken open, not yet clean

The hum beneath the hum beneath the floor

We don't know what we're waiting for

But we are waiting, we are waiting still

The way a window waits against the chill

Outro

Pure silence is a thing with edges

We press our hands against its walls

We are the pause, we are the pause

We are the pause before it all

Instrumental Outro

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