[Verse 1]
Eleven forty-seven, kitchen light still buzzing low,
I typed a joke about the dog who learned trombone,
Hit send, watched three dots flicker, stutter, then just stop,
Forty minutes, nothing, not one single thing drops,
I scroll back up to check I didn't sound unhinged,
Count the little gray checkmarks like they're keeping score,
Priya's probably sleeping, Marcus mutes his phone,
But my head builds a courtroom out of four left on read,
Verdict reads as guilty, jury made of old profile pics,
I mute my own punchline like it's evidence to hide.
[Chorus]
It's not a verdict, baby, it's just not yet,
Nobody's laughing at you, they just haven't checked,
The quiet's only timing, not a closing door,
Hang on, they'll get there — they're one pause before.
[Verse 2]
So here's the thing I learned about that dotted little line,
Doris hears her messages whenever she's got time,
Between the school run pickup and the kettle boiling dry,
The queue just holds your joke until her next free breath,
Then reads it out loud right when she can actually laugh,
Marcus gets it three stops into his evening train,
Priya laughs at midnight, sends a crying-laughing face,
Turns out silence wasn't one thing, it was four different clocks,
I set the phone face down and go and finish my tea,
Let the waiting do its waiting — that part isn't me.
[Verse 3]
My grandmother waited weeks for letters crossing seas,
Checked the mailbox like a ritual, down on her knees,
No gray dots to measure, just the calendar's slow crawl,
She learned to trust the distance, trust that love still called,
Maybe I'm just doing that, but speeded up to light,
Mistaking seconds for the months she survived each night,
If she could hold her silence like a steady, patient flame,
I can hold mine too, and call the waiting by its name,
Stop reading every pause like it's a verdict on my worth,
Let the gap between us just be ordinary earth.
[Bridge]
And sure, sometimes the joke just lands there, flat and alone,
Not every quiet room has someone coming home,
I won't pretend each silence ends in laughing text,
Some jokes just die mid-air — that part stays unfixed, next.
[Chorus]
It's not a verdict, baby, it's just not yet,
Nobody's laughing at you, they just haven't checked,
The quiet's only timing, not a closing door,
Hang on, they'll get there — they're one pause before.
[Chorus]
It's not a verdict, baby, it's just not yet,
Nobody's laughing at you, they just haven't checked,
The quiet's only timing, not a closing door,
Hang on, they'll get there — they're one pause before.
[Outro]
So I'll set the phone face down and let the hours spin,
Somewhere out there laughter's building, slow, about to begin,
It's not a verdict, baby, just the shape that patience takes,
One more pause before the laughing — that's the space it makes.