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The Equation in My Head 2 by Batoul

SongGPT
The Equation in My Head 2 by Batoul - indie pop music cover art

The Equation in My Head 2

indie pop

0:004:06
Lyrics
Description
I sit in the classroom corner alight, Pages of numbers, late-night study, lamp-grite.
Pencil marks on margins where my secrets shout, Lock of notes folded, tossing whispers about. He solves for X while I steal a glance, Cafeteria table, a tie and romance. I hide behind my notebook’s margin crown, Counting syllables of the way he turns around.
I slide a paper heart across his desk at noon, Tutor his troubled proofs under a blue-lit moon. Every corrected line becomes a quiet dare, My heart’s a test, I’m answering in secret.
And you’re the equation occupying my mind, A puzzle I keep tracing line by line. I wish I could be the book that accompanies you everywhere, A whisper in your hallway, a bookmark in your stare.
I’m Mr. Nerd with a simple, stubborn fire, Raving one right glance and then midwire. He races me for firsts, we trade scores and smiles, Craft paper doodles, stairwells, stealthy miles, I fold my courage into the corners of my pen leaves.
Sticky notes on locker doors again and again. Late night study, lamp your name in every margin I write, Margin doodles moonlight into the test's white light.
I help him with a thing and then pretend it was chess, Hold my breath when his eyes sweep my passing glance. A fraction of his laughter makes my whole room rearrange, I’m solving for a future that’s still out of range.
And you’re the equation occupying my mind, A puzzle I keep tracing line by line. I wish I could be the book that accompanies you everywhere, A whisper in your hallway, a bookmark in your stare.
I’m Mr. Nerd with a simple, stubborn fire, Craving one right glance and then midwire. Under the fluorescent hum, I write, meet me by the lamp, Folding note pressed to my palm, hard like a ring.
What if I say the name across the library's arch? What if we trade more than answers? What if there's a rush? I imagine us between the stacks, Solving late night songs, you laugh, I correct.
I’m Mr. Nerd with a simple, stubborn fire, Craving one right glance and then midwire. Under the fluorescent hum, I write, meet me by the lamp, Folding note pressed to my palm, hard like a ring.
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