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Verse 1 Two people sit talking in a calm, steady way, No shouting, no anger, just a quiet kind of day. The facts on the table are simple and clear, But one of them feels something shifting in the air. Verse 2 It isn’t about logic, it isn’t about proof, It’s a feeling that the other voice is taking up the room. So the weaker set of points gets lifted up high, Not to win the argument, but to not feel pushed aside. Chorus And they’re talking past the facts, trying hard to hold their place, Reaching for importance in a calm and quiet space. Not because the evidence is wrong or out of line, But because the social distance makes agreement feel unkind. Verse 3 There’s a gap in the background, a distance in the view, A sense that “your world isn’t mine, and mine isn’t yours too.” So the stronger set of facts feels foreign in a way, Like accepting them would pull their own identity away. Verse 4 So they lean on their story, and they lean on their pride, Trying to stay equal on the conversational tide. Not hostile, not bitter, just quietly unsure How to let the truth stand when it feels like something more. Chorus And they’re talking past the facts, trying hard to hold their place, Reaching for importance in a calm and quiet space. Not because the evidence is wrong or out of line, But because the social distance makes agreement feel unkind. Bridge It’s a quiet competition, not a battle to be won, Just a person feeling smaller when the clearer points are done. And the mind protects itself in a gentle, steady way, By lifting up its viewpoint so it doesn’t fade away. Verse 5 So the song just explains how the pattern tends to go, How a person may resist what they already know. No blame in the telling, no judgment in the tone, Just a neutral little picture of a common human zone. Final Chorus And they’re talking past the facts, trying hard to hold their place, Reaching for importance in a calm and quiet space. Not because the evidence is wrong or out of line, But because the social distance makes agreement feel unkind. Outro And the moment drifts onward in a quiet, steady way, Two people still talking, but not quite in the same place. And the truth sits patient, waiting off to the side, While identity and distance take the longer ride.