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Smoke Signals 2 by Bradson

SongGPT
Smoke Signals 2 by Bradson - Futuristic beat, Psychedelic vibes,  music cover art

Smoke Signals 2

Futuristic beat, Psychedelic vibes,

0:003:38
Lyrics
Description
They smile like summer skies, warm and wide, but full of lies. Say the words I need to hear, but they echo strange inside my ear. Hands outstretched like open doors, but I don’t know what they’re reaching for.
Every lie feels just a little too thin, like there’s a ghost beneath their grin. And I don’t know what’s real or played, all the colors start to fade.
Are you friend or are you flame? Are you comfort, are you game? Can’t tell the truth from the disguise, when your kindness hides your eyes.
Are you love or just a lure? Are your motives ever pure? You draw the line, then blur the view. I don’t know what to make of you.
They dance in circles, say I’m here, but disappear when storms come near. All their life feels too rehearsed, given just enough, but never first.
Trust feels like a shifting sand, falling right between my hands. And I’m stuck between the hope and doubt, trying to feel my own way out. And every word you softly speak, cuts a little more each week.
Are you friend or are you flame? Are you comfort, are you game? Can’t tell the truth from the disguise, when your kindness hides your eyes.
Are you love or just a lure? Are your motives ever pure? You draw the line, then blur the view. I don’t know what to make of you.
Smoke signals in the night, look like stars if you squint right. But their warning′s dressed as light. Now I see, now I might.
You are not the storm, but you′re not the sun. Not the bullet, but still the gun. I can′t love what won′t be true, but I can′t stop reaching for you.
Are you friend or are you flame? Are you healing, are you shame? You hold me close, then step away. A game of shadows every day.
Are you love or just a lure? Something lost, I can′t endure. I want the real, I want it true. But I don′t know what to make of you.
So I walk the wire, quiet and thin. Where the friendlies end, and the fakes begin.
You are not the storm, but you′re not the sun. Not the bullet, but still the gun. I can′t love what won′t be true, but I can′t stop reaching for you.