Let Your Guitar Call It Out 1 by Kevin

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Let Your Guitar Call It Out 1 by Kevin - Indie Acoustic,Female (Breathy) Vocals music cover art

Let Your Guitar Call It Out 1

Kevin

Indie Acoustic,Female (Breathy) Vocals

0:003:38
Lyrics
Description
[Verse 1]
On 3rd and Hollow the streetlight stains your name on wet pavement
Your chipped blue mug sits by the sink, a lipstick crescent pavement-sentiment
A postcard folded in the bible—your handwriting like a small surrender
The kettle sings at midnight, but it can't boil away the weather
[Pre-Chorus]
I trace the coffee ring where the map of us used to be
Quiet builds a room around me, every wall a memory
[Chorus]
Let your guitar call out what we never said
Finger the silence, find the breath you left
Play the line that bends between regret and grace
A sad beat on the fretboard, filling up the space
[Verse 2]
I pass the laundromat with your jacket on the chair in the window
There’s a ticket stub in my pocket from a night we didn't go
Street vendors shout the same old songs — neon, grease, and rain
I fold my hands and learn the shape of missing you again
[Pre-Chorus]
The night leans in with questions you don't bother to reply
Traffic hums like distant drums, the hush of goodbye
[Chorus — take two: admit]
Let your guitar call out what we never said
Play the bar where I let silence win instead
Trace the corners of the lie I told myself to stay
A sad beat with a steady hand that says you walked away
[Bridge]
I kept the key you left on top of the vinyl stack
A receipt for a coat I never thought I'd unpack
There’s a photograph on Maple Lane where autumn learns to keep
I finally step across the doorstep you left half asleep
Now the strings bend, and the melody decides to change
It pulls a memory into light, pulls my hands away from blame
[Chorus — final: soften/accept]
Let your guitar call out what we never said
Turn the aching into something softer in my head
Play the line that loosens knots I tied with stubborn hands
A sad beat that becomes a doorway, a new map of the land
[Outro]
Let the guitar call what words forgot to hold
A single chord that opens, then turns warm from cold
Fingerpicked and breathing—let it fold me back to whole
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