[Verse 1 — Soft, intimate]
It was so early — the porchlight still blinking, mailbox asleep on the curb;
I count minutes past midnight, watch my breath draw constellations on the glass.
You used to laugh across my kitchen table, coffee-steamed maps and our crooked plans,
Now your laugh is a ghost in a playlist I can't open, those text threads read 'ok' then gone.
[Pre-Chorus — Build]
Every sentence I send comes back wrong,
You said, "You're the villain," then closed your door that one night —
I'm standing in the doorway of us, my palm pressed to the cold where you used to lean.
[Chorus — Full, distorted guitars, stacked harmonies]
You shut the light — I'm pulled to shadowed hands,
Folding into corners where no one understands.
The coffee-stained map of promises is burning in my hands,
I can't sleep; my thoughts replay your silence like a band that won't stand.
[Verse 2 — Quiet, then edges sharpen]
Your replies turned blunt as a blade, your eyes another city's skyline.
We used to trade hours like small treasures; now your minutes are mines I can't reclaim.
The past came back so early like a neighbor who never left —
It knocked and it asked for rent; my old scars answered the bell.
[Pre-Chorus — Tighter rhythm]
No matter how I soften my words, you fold into less and less;
In your silence every bridge will burn, and I'm left gathering ashes of our 'before'.
You thumbed a message — "I'm done" — and called me the thing I feared to be.
[Chorus — Full band, more aggressive]
You shut the light — I'm pulled to shadowed hands,
Folding into corners where no one understands.
The coffee-stained map of promises is burning in my hands,
I can't sleep; my thoughts replay your silence like a band that won't stand.
[Bridge — Sparse, single guitar, breathy lead]
I pace the kitchen while the kettle sings the songs we used to hum,
Counting sidewalks, counting seconds, the city yawns but I'm awake.
I see your face in every window, a silhouette that turns away—
I thought those ghosts were gone. They climb right back in at daybreak.
[Build — Drums re-enter, tension rises]
Is there a thread that won't shred when you look through me like glass?
Is there a spark under the porchlight where we started and didn't know how to last?
[Final Chorus — Full band, highest energy, harmonies lift]
You shut the light — I'm pulled to shadowed hands,
But I won't fold completely into those darkened plans.
The coffee-stained map still trembles in my callused hands,
I can't sleep; your silence rewinds, but I'm learning how to stand.
[Outro — Sparse again, unresolved]
Maybe one day you'll flip the switch and I'll fold into the warm,
But for now I'll keep this open chord — unresolved, electric on my arm.
I'll leave the porchlight blinking for the shape of what we were,
A single string left humming, a heart that won't be blurred.
[Performance notes]
- Verses: soft, intimate vocal with clean guitar.
- Choruses: aggressive, distorted guitars and stacked harmonies; gritty lead vocal.
