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Verse
Shape-shifting devotion
“Be whoever you want / I'll be whoever I want with you”
Right out the gate, the speaker tosses out the rulebook. Identity turns liquid; love means you can shapeshift together and nobody calls it fake. The city stops and stares at the pair, yet the narrator doesn’t flinch. Instead they promise, "I'll take you everywhere"—translation: the whole map is fair game when you ride with me. Underneath the flex sits a need: keep trusting me while the world watches.
Pre-Chorus
Private vs. public
“The way you make me feel when we're alone, alone”
The lights dim, the tone turns hushed. He’s running a mental highlight reel of moments away from prying eyes. Notice the double "alone, alone"—he’s drilling down on privacy like it’s sacred. But then the mood flips: "shit get real when we get home." Real equals raw, no filters, maybe even messy. The contrast sets up the whole song’s tension: can something this pretty survive the real world?
Chorus
Dream made flesh
“Girl, it's pure, you're all I need… pure fantasy”
This hook is a mantra. He keeps pairing "pure" with "fantasy," two words that usually clash—one squeaky clean, the other escapist. By repeating them he merges them: the fantasy is pure because it’s singular, undiluted. When he asks, "What do you dream about?" he’s really checking if their visions sync. If they do, paradise isn’t theoretical; it’s actionable.
Interlude
Leap-of-faith invitation
“Hopefully, if you dream what I dream then / Maybe we can make our dreams come true”
The spoken break feels like leaning in across the table. No beat, no melody clutter—just a gentle dare. He admits belief in dream logic like a kid still rooting for magic. The line "Only if… you still believe" throws the ball in the other court. The fantasy needs two architects or it crumbles.
Pre-Chorus (Reprise)
Reality check again
“The way the shit get real when we get home”
Looping back here isn’t filler; it’s proof the question still hangs. After the dreamy interlude, the narrator snaps back to blunt language. It’s a reminder: the dream must withstand actual rooms, actual nights, not just imagined ones.
Chorus (Reprise)
Mantra reinforced
“Just as pure as water, pure fantasy”
The extra simile—water—amplifies the purity claim. Water is transparent, necessary, unstoppable when it flows. By tying that to fantasy, he’s saying the vision isn’t fragile; it’s elemental.
Conclusion
Belief makes it real
Across the track Brent Faiyaz keeps bouncing between airy possibility and grounded candor. Trust acts as the bridge: if they both buy in, they can shape-shift, roam, and still stay real when the door shuts. That faith turns a sweet hallucination into something you can hold, not just picture.
