[Verse 1]
Booth at the diner, phone's flat on the formica,
screen dark, face down, next to the ketchup and the creamer.
Left thigh buzzes like a hornet stuck in denim,
I smack my own leg — ain't a single thing within it.
Thirty seconds later, same spot, same alarm,
a phantom in my pocket, tugging at my arm.
Waitress asks if I'm alright, I tell her I'm just fine,
but my nervous system's ringing on a dead, disconnected line.
Checked the thing four times since the coffee hit the cup,
taught my whole leg twitching like it's wired up.
The buzz was never real, just a habit gone thin —
a bell my own body rings and never lets back in.
[Chorus]
Nothing's calling, nothing's buzzing, it's just my skin rehearsing,
the phone is cold and silent, so why's my whole leg nervous?
Nothing's calling, nothing's buzzing, it's just my skin rehearsing,
the phone is cold and silent, so why's my whole leg nervous?
[Verse 2]
I swapped the silent buzzer for a voice that waits its turn,
no push, no little red flag for my nerves to learn.
If a friend sends a message, it don't light up and hide,
it speaks it when I'm pausing, calm, like company inside.
Set a ten minute timer for the rice up on the stove,
it tells me when it's ready — no mystery, no code.
Got a meeting at eleven? No countdown creeping near,
it just says the time out loud the moment it gets clear.
Nothing hums in secret, nothing waits to strike,
so my thigh can just be a thigh, not a sensor on a hike.
The quiet isn't empty, it's honest for a change —
I know exactly what's coming, nothing hidden, nothing strange.
[Bridge]
Some ghosts are old, muscle-memory, ten years deep,
some nights I'll swear I felt it buzzing in my sleep.
A habit doesn't vanish just 'cause the noise is gone —
my leg might twitch at nothing till it learns a different song.
[Verse 3]
Friends don't get it when I flinch at empty air,
they laugh it off as funny, like it's nothing, like I'm scared.
But the body keeps score long after the mind moves on,
a thousand false alarms rewire everything they're on.
So I'm teaching my own skin a slower, steadier beat,
one real signal at a time, until the phantom's obsolete.
[Chorus]
Nothing's calling, nothing's buzzing, it's just my skin rehearsing,
the phone is cold and silent, so why's my whole leg nervous?
Nothing's calling, nothing's buzzing, it's just my skin rehearsing,
the phone is cold and silent, so why's my whole leg nervous?
[Chorus]
Nothing's calling, nothing's buzzing, it's just my skin rehearsing,
the phone is cold and silent, so why's my whole leg nervous?
Nothing's calling, nothing's buzzing, it's just my skin rehearsing,
the phone is cold and silent, so why's my whole leg nervous?