(Verse 1) The porch swing's empty, mail still in her name, Blinds pulled tightly, afternoons all blend the same. Coffee's gone cold in a chipped blue mug, untouched, Lipstick in the drawer where she swore she'd trust. Mirror keeps her honest — a stranger looks back slow, Sunday dress hangs quiet, the hanger's bent and low. She used to hum along to hymns on the AM band, Now the radio's a whisper she can't understand. (Pre-Chorus) She folds her hands, opens her mouth, a practiced pray, Then she closes up the windows — the words slide away. She prays, then stays quiet — doesn't know how to find it again, Her faith slipped through the cracks when life stopped making sense. (Chorus - Main) Like in "Just a Fool," a soft line on the stereo, She stands in the hallway while the evening candles go. The porch light's fading, and she's breaking at the seams, Lost the hymn, lost the promise, lost the outlines of her dreams. She reaches for a memory she can't hold in her hands, Doesn't know the way to stand, doesn't know how to find it again. (Verse 2) The Bible on the shelf's got dust and a grocery list, Her keys lie on a saucer next to a letter she dismissed. The oven's grown cold where she used to bake like grace, Her calendar's a row of crossed-out days, a hollow place. The neighbor waves from his truck but she won't step outside, She's a portrait on the mantle where the colors have died. A single photograph still shows her laughing in the sun, Now laughter's like a rumor from a life that's come undone. (Pre-Chorus) She tries the Jensen station, a hymn swells on the air, She hums the tune off-key, lets a secret out somewhere. She prays, then stays quiet — doesn't know how to find it again, Hands searching for the map of her old prayers and old friends. (Chorus - Main) Like in "Just a Fool," a soft line on the stereo, She stands in the hallway while the evening candles go. The porch light's fading, and she's breaking at the seams, Lost the hymn, lost the promise, lost the outlines of her dreams. She reaches for a memory she can't hold in her hands, Doesn't know the way to stand, doesn't know how to find it again. (Bridge) A knock at noon — Mrs. Hayes with lemon pie and a hymn, The radio lifts a chorus, a crack in the glass grows dim. She opens up a curtain, feels the cool of morning air, Turns a page in a Bible that's been waiting over there. A neighbor's laugh, a dog that barks; a porch light blinks awake, She sets her coffee on the rail and lets her shoulders break. A foot steps forward on the board, then waits to see what's next, A small, imperfect tremor — a tiny, hopeful text. (Chorus - Main) Like in "Just a Fool," a soft line on the stereo, She stands in the doorway while the evening candles go. The porch light's turning steady, she won't fall apart this time, Found dust between the pages, and a half-forgotten rhyme. She reaches for a memory she couldn't hold in her hands, Doesn't know the whole map yet, but she'll try to find it again. (Chor•