[Verse 1]
Didn’t talk much tonight,
kept the lights low,
just drifting through the hours
moving slow.
I slipped away quietly,
no message, no sound —
and nobody noticed
I wasn’t around.
(“it’s fine… whatever…”)
[Pre‑Chorus]
I’m the steady one, I guess —
the one who’s “always fine,”
so when I fade to silence
no one reads the signs.
[Chorus]
I logged out quietly,
faded from the scene,
lying in my room
feeling lost in between
being here and not really here —
just tired, just worn.
And it stung a bit
that nobody noticed I was gone.
(“just tired… just tired…")
[Verse 2]
Two nights now, barely speaking,
just trying to stay upright,
head aching, heart heavy,
everything too tight.
The world keeps moving past me —
laughing, talking, living —
while I sit in the shadows
quietly slipping.
(“I’m still here… I think…”)
[Pre‑Chorus]
I know they don’t mean it,
they’re not trying to ignore —
but feeling invisible
cuts more than before.
[Chorus]
I logged out quietly,
no ripple in the air,
lying in my bed
wondering if anyone would care.
Feels like I’m transparent,
just passing through time —
and I wish that someone
would ask if I’m fine.
(“am I fine…?”)
[Bridge]
Maybe it’s just exhaustion,
maybe it’s just tonight,
maybe tomorrow
I’ll feel a little more bright.
But right now I’m shaky,
heavy in the chest —
just wanted someone to notice
I needed rest.
(“just one person…”)
[Chorus]
I logged out quietly,
didn’t want a scene —
just needed to breathe
and feel like I’m seen.
I know I matter —
I do, deep down.
But tonight it hurt
that nobody noticed I was gone.
(“I’ll be okay… just tired…")