R&B Lyrics Generator

Verse 1

Cardboard boxes stacked up tight, label’s faded turn-of-the-night. Winter coat still smells like snow, three sets of skis and a busted lamp glow.

Chorus

Clear the floor, let the daylight in, open doors on what’s been hid in. Clear the floor, make a brand new start, one man’s junk is tomorrow’s heart.

Verse 2

Garden hose all tangled tight, coffee can full of rusted nails. Bicycle chain no pedal bound, hangs where the swing set used to pound.

Bridge

Sawdust circles on the bench, ring of hours turned to friends. Not a thing we’re saving stays, but the shine comes anyway.

Outro

Clear the floor, let the daylight in, clear the floor, make a brand new start clear the floor

Verse 1

The envelope slipped through the door, warm against my palm A quiet hum of the printer, fresh ink still drying Coffee cooling on the counter, but my heart keeps rising My name in bold across the top, a promise in black ink I count the zeros, each one a step toward the corner cafe we talked about The street outside smells like rain‑kissed pavement, but I’m already smiling My roommate laughs, “Look at you, finally moving” and I feel the room expand Tonight I’ll buy the sunrise in a bag of fresh croissants

Chorus

First paycheck, a sunrise in my hands Every digit humming like a sweet refrain I’m dancing through the hallway, no shadow to hide Just the rhythm of a brand‑new tide

Verse 2

I’m walking past the old laundromat, the same flickering sign, but I see it new A pair of sneakers waiting, laced up for the next mile I’ll chase My phone lights up with a text, “Let’s celebrate, you’ve earned it” I’ll splash the savings into a tiny plant, watch it grow beside the window The night feels softer, the city hum a gentle lullaby, and I’m humming back The future isn’t a distant echo, it’s the cash in my pocket humming low

Bridge

I’ll keep the receipt like a souvenir, proof that dreams can be bought And when the next bill arrives, I’ll meet it with a grin, not a sigh Because this first taste is sweet enough to linger on my tongue

Outro

First paycheck, a sunrise in my hands, a sunrise in my hands First paycheck, a sunrise in my hands, a sunrise in my hands, yeah First paycheck, a sunrise in my hands, a sunrise in my hands.

Verse 1

Her porch light hums at six-fifteen a little brighter than the rest I hear the teakettle whistle before the first of Sunday’s best

Chorus

Oh the lady at 303 sips her tea and sings along to gospel on an old Crosley even when the song is wrong Oh the lady at 303 sips her tea and sings along to gospel on an old Crosley even when the song is wrong

Verse 2

Saturday mornings lawn-mower tune cuts the dandelions clean I wave from where I’m watering she pretends not to be seen

Bridge

One June we both left mailboxes open two days straight in ninety-eight She laughed when I apologized — “Next time just ring my gate.”

Outro

The lady at 303 still sips and sings along to gospel on an old Crosley even when the song is wrong

Verse 1

Woke up to the sound of strangers walking through my door Their footsteps echoing, a reminder that I'm not sure How many more mornings I'll wake up in this place But for now, I'm gonna soak it in, and let the sunshine fill my space

Chorus

Oh, I'm sleeping in a house that's not mine anymore But I'm gonna make some memories, on this floor I'll dance in every room, and sing my favorite songs 'Cause even though it's ending, I'm feeling alive, and I'm feeling strong

Verse 2

I'll remember laughter, and tears, and all the nights We stayed up talking, and the mornings we slept in tight The creaky floorboards, and the way the light shines through It's a bittersweet feeling, but I'm gonna make it feel brand new

Bridge

Maybe someday, I'll come back to visit And see the new life, that's been built in it But for now, it's mine, and I'm gonna own it And make the most of, these last few nights

Outro

So I'll sleep in, and I'll dream of all the fun We had in this house, beneath the bright warm sun And when I wake, I'll know that it's time to go But for now, I'm gonna stay, and let the joy flow, oh, oh, oh I'm sleeping in a house, that's not mine, but it feels like home Oh, oh, oh, and I won't let it go, no, not yet, not yet.

Verse 1

His whistle sits crooked on the chain Three rings deep but still clear as rain One shoelace loose, one knee knocked sideways He’s calling your number like it’s gonna stay

Chorus

One more lap, one more cheer I wouldn’t be here without you right here One more lap, one more year The best coach that I ever did hear One more lap, one more cheer I wouldn’t be here without you right here One more lap, one more year The best coach that I ever did hear

Verse 2

Taped-up plays drawn on napkins thin He’d draw on the field while we scribbled in Wrong end of the whistle, wrong side of the ball He’d nod like that’s where you belonged of all

Bridge

Saturday morning drills when the dew’s still wet He’d fake a limp just to finish last with me—let me win one, let me

Outro

Let me win one Let me win Let me

Verse 1

Your coffee cold beneath the desk lamp glow I counted thirty rings before you picked up slow Laughing cracks in the voice that’s twenty minutes late Told me the train broke down again

Chorus

I’ll wait for the call to finally land Blinking stars on the screen in my hand Every ring is a silver thread Pull me back to the words you said I’ll wait for the call to finally land Blinking stars on the screen in my hand Every ring is a silver thread Pull me back to the words you said

Verse 2

You left the keys in the ignition Engine still warm but the road gone quiet Said next time it’s a one-way drive I’m rewriting the song we jive

Bridge

Dial tone hums like a lullaby Your “hello” gets lost in the sky I’ll ride this pause till the tone dies

Outro

Ring once more, shine once more Ring once more, shine once more

Verse 1

Silver water bends the hickory roots Mud between my toes, the summer school shoes Grass stains on the knees, half a PB&J Lid flipped on the jar, just enough for two

Chorus

Oh the old swimmin' hole still knows my name Still sings the same old rhyme when I wade Wall cloud rolls in slow but we don't leave Lord it won't rain till we're long beneath the trees Oh the old swimmin' hole still knows my name Still sings the same old rhyme when I wade Wall cloud rolls in slow but we don't leave Lord it won't rain till we're long beneath the trees

Verse 2

Corkscrew slide rusted through both seat bones Daddy's fishing pole leans on the old tire swing Sky the color of that lemonade stand Temperature drops when your shadow hits the water

Bridge

Maybe next time I won't let go Maybe next time I can float on home Silver water keeps everything it took Still hums the tune I forgot to look

Outro

Old swimmin' hole Still knows Still knows I came

Verse 1

Candles flicker on the kitchen counter, soft gold. The hallway hums with the quiet of a paused city. Your laugh rolls like a gentle tide against the wall. We pull the old record out, needle finds the groove.

Chorus

We spin in the dark, the world turns slower, brighter. Your smile lights the room, no wires needed. Hands find the rhythm, feet find the floor, We’re alive in the hush, love in the glow.

Verse 2

Steam rises from the coffee, clouds on the table. We tell the stories we saved for midnight hours. Your eyes catch the ember, a secret spark, And the night stretches, unwrapped, unhurried.

Bridge

When the street lamps blink out, our shadows dance alone, Every breath becomes a note, every sigh a chord, The silence drapes us like a soft blanket, And we find the music hidden in the still.

Outro

We’re alive in the hush, love in the glow, We’re alive in the hush, love in the glow, We’re alive in the hush, love in the glow.

Verse 1

Coffee pot’s gone cold in the corner Ticket stubs in the tip jar yellowing light Your old apron hangs on a nail in the back Still smells like cinnamon and midnight shifts

Chorus

So tonight let the register sing empty Let the neon buzz like a dying fly This is the last shift, the last goodbye To the place that held us like Sunday morning

Verse 2

The bell above the door won’t chime today Dust sits on the rack where the papers were sold I sweep up the years in a slow quiet heap And the dust settles right where it’s always been

Bridge

Wasn’t the inventory that kept us here Wasn’t the customers or the bills It was the way the morning light fell On the counter between us, still

Outro

So tonight let the register sing empty Let the neon buzz like a dying fly This is the last shift, the last goodbye The last shift

Verse 1

My old companion, faithful and true Finally gave up, on the side of the road, with me and you The engine sputtered, the wheels slowed down I knew that sound, the final spin around

Chorus

Now you're still, and I'm left to roam Without my trusty ride, my way back home Memories of you, they linger on A faithful friend, now gone Now you're still, and I'm left to roam Without my trusty ride, my way back home Memories of you, they linger on A faithful friend, now gone

Verse 2

I recall the nights, we'd drive all night Windows down, music loud, feeling alive The sun would rise, and we'd find our way Through the morning fog, to a brand new day

Bridge

I'll find another way, to get where I need But it won't be the same, without your familiar creed The creaks and groans, the way you'd sway I'll miss you, old friend, every single day

Outro

So I'll stand here, and watch you rest My old companion, you've done your best I'll remember you, and the miles we've shared And the last mile, that we never quite made, oh Oh, the last mile, that we never quite made The last mile, where our journey ended, and faded The last mile, where our time together, finally came to an end.

Verse 1

Milk carton on the counter, date circled twice Post-it notes peel like old sunburnt advice Radiator hissing like a tired sigh I signed the lease but I never liked the sky

Chorus

This flat was never mine to hate or stay Just four walls holding dust that smelled of yesterday Goodbye to the cracks that spelled my name wrong Hello to whatever doesn't fit me for long

Verse 2

Front door lock sticks like a lesson learned too late Neighbor’s dog barks out the same old hate Even the elevator hums the same complaint I’m taking the stairs to feel the weight

Bridge

Pack the photos last, face down in the tote Can’t confront her smile when I can’t unpack my throat If the walls could talk they’d lie through their teeth But I’m leaving anyway like a thief

Outro

Running from rooms that don’t run back Running from rooms that don’t run

Verse 1

The screen lit up again at midnight Your name in blue I let it go The coffee’s cold, the night still breathing But I don’t want to know

Chorus

Oh, I could hear you calling through the static Like wind through half-remembered doors Too little voice now on the answering Too much silence after yours

Verse 2

Three in the morning, insomniac The ring tone hums like a low mistake I should have picked it up like last time But the weight of goodbye was just too great

Bridge

Maybe tomorrow when the light is softer I’ll press redial by accident Maybe not at all

Outro

The screen lights up again at noon No name, no color, just the room

Verse 1

The radiator hisses like an old man waking, steam curls at the window where last night’s rain dried. Your sweater’s still on the hook, sleeves hanging empty, a ghost of you in the space between our sides.

Chorus

It’s not the cold that wakes me, it’s the knowing what it brings— the first time winter presses down like a hand on sleeping wings.

Verse 2

The streetlights blur through October’s yellow bruises, and the mail slot rattles with bills we’ll pay too slow. I trace the cracks you laughed at when the house was new now, just a ledger of all the things we used to know.

Bridge

I could call you—I can see the screen lighting up—but every number’s just a road I’ve driven down before. Late October, late reply, late excuse to linger, late coffee in a cup that’s cold upon the floor.

Outro

It’s not the cold that steals me, it’s the silence where you breathed. Oh, October, will you tell me how to want past want?

Verse 1

I pull the porch light loose, the bulb flickers like a sigh. The hallway still holds the coat I left on a Tuesday. Dust settles on the staircase where my sneakers used to tap. A photograph on the mantle watches, its smile frozen in amber. A laugh drifts from the kitchen, not mine, but it fits the shape of the room.

Chorus

Someone's breathing in the rooms I left. Their footsteps echo where my shadows used to stretch. I watch the sunrise through windows I once called mine. And I whisper to the walls, “welcome home.”

Verse 2

A new pair of shoes line the entry, fresh as morning coffee. The garden blooms where I once watered wilted herbs. A soft voice hums under the ceiling fan, a lullaby I never sang. The living‑room couch holds a shape I never knew it could hold. Even the mailbox bears a name I never wrote.

Bridge

I trace the grain of the old oak table, feeling the stories it keeps. Each creak tells me the house remembers, even when I’m gone. I’m learning that home lives in the moments that stay behind, not just the walls that I built with my own hands.

Outro

Someone's breathing in the rooms I left, Someone's breathing in the rooms I left, Someone's breathing in the rooms I left, Someone's breathing in the rooms I left.

Verse 1

Her perfume still on my shirt cuff, the DJ’s playing songs we made up. White lights strung in the churchyard trees but I’m the only one who sees the way her mother’s linen napkin twists in fists no one will clap in.

Chorus

I’m the third chair at this wedding table, not the groom, not the guest who’s able to lift her veil without stumbling— just the ghost with half a heart full.

Verse 2

Seen that chrome toaster on the buffet? We microwaved wedding soup by eight. Her little sister’s recital shoes click past me like I’m not even news. The cake knife’s handle feels like lead; I wait for a hand to knock it dead.

Bridge

The vows all rise in the steam off coffee, each sip slows the hole in my pocket. If I lean in, can I borrow one breath of the air she just left in her dress?

Outro

Third chair… third chair… third chair at the table… third chair…

Verse 1

My mother's laughter echoes, a snapshot in my mind A girl with wildflowers in her hair, dancing on a summer's night The way she spins, untethered, with a freedom I've never known A stranger, yet the same eyes that read me bedtime stories, back home

Chorus

Oh, the stories they could tell, of love and reckless nights Of dreams that they had chased, before the morning light In the fading light, I see them, young and free And I wonder, who were they, before they became my family

Verse 2

My father's hands, they held a guitar, not a briefcase or a tie He sang of revolution, of changing the world, with a fiery eye The fire that drove him, it still burns, but now it's tempered with age A flame that flickers softly, in the eyes that look at me, with a gentle stage

Bridge

I'm trying to imagine, the roads they used to roam The choices they made, the loves they called their own The ghosts that they had faced, the fears that they had to overcome And how they found their way, to the love that they now call home

Outro

In the fading light, I see them, young and free Oh, the stories they could tell, of you and me In the fading light, I see them, and I'm searching for a glimpse Of the love that they had found, and the hearts that they had to mend.

Verse 1

The coffee’s gone cold on the tray by the door Flight board’s lit up but my heart stays onshore I trace the cracks in the linoleum floor Counting the minutes I’ll count evermore

Chorus

Oh, the hour til wheels leave the ground Fills up with the sound of goodbye drowned In the static hum of this transit town I’m just luggage without you around Oh, the hour til wheels leave the ground Fills up with the sound of goodbye drowned In the static hum of this transit town I’m just luggage without you around

Verse 2

Your toothbrush still steams on the bathroom glass I fold your sweater just how you like fast The clock’s a metronome counting down past All the ways I’m not quite your last

Bridge

I could call but the voice won’t arrive Just the dial tone singing I’ve tried To outrun love like a last-minute ride Only time knows which one stays in sight

Outro

Oh, the hour til wheels leave the ground I’m checking my watch just to turn it around

Verse 1

The coat still smells like wet pavement and the diner three blocks down The pockets sag like old regrets one breath from tearing out I turn it inside out to clear the change and my fingers catch the flap

Chorus

That crinkled yellow paper clings to the seam like yesterday The total in faded blue ink gives away the day forty-three degrees and rain and nothing left to say

Verse 2

I smooth the crease with my thumb the tip of a ballpoint’s press Twelve thirty-seven for the meatloaf meal and coffee that didn’t stay The numbers blur to the same old story things that don’t pay rent

Bridge

The coat’s been through every coatroom and coat rack every bartender’s “hang it there” still the lining keeps the coat whole when the shoulders start to tear

Outro

That crinkled yellow paper clings that crinkled yellow that crinkled yellow paper clings

Verse 1

Your coffee’s still warm on the kitchen counter Morning light turns the steam to gold But the door stays shut, no keys on the hook And the clock ticks loud in the empty hall

Chorus

Did I say too much? Did I not say enough? Faded scribbles on a napkin turned to dust Silence wraps around like a coat too big for one Guess I’ll learn the size of your shadow by the next sun

Verse 2

Last train left without you in the station Your laughter stuck in the vinyl hiss Autumn maps the cracks along the sidewalk Where your boots used to kiss the curb like this

Bridge

Maybe home’s a shape you outgrew Maybe I’m the part you rewrote in blue I trace the line where your name used to be Now it just rusts like a key

Outro

Guess I’ll learn the size of your shadow by the next sun Learn the size of your shadow by the next sun Learn the size of your shadow by the next—

Verse 1

The clock on the wall ticked slower than the tide, I folded napkins like tiny white flags, Your laugh drifted from the back porch, warm as sunrise, A faded badge hung crooked on my chest, The scent of salty air mixed with fresh paint, I counted the minutes in the rust of the locker door.

Chorus

I thought I'd leave when the heat turned to fall, But the porch swing still holds the echo of our song, Every sunrise feels like a promise we missed, And the night still hums the same soft lullaby.

Verse 2

The register chimed, a gentle reminder of days, Your hand brushed mine over a stack of receipts, We talked about cities we’d never see, While the old fan spun circles above our heads, The sunset painted the dock in amber, and I lingered, Because the goodbye never seemed real enough.

Bridge

Now the empty booth waits for a story that paused, The summer's heat lives in the coffee’s steam, I hear the rhythm of the waves in my chest, A quiet ache that sings of what could've been.

Outro

I thought I'd leave when the heat turned to fall, I thought I'd leave when the heat turned to fall, But the porch swing still holds the echo of our song, But the porch swing still holds the echo of our song, Every sunrise feels like a promise we missed, Every sunrise feels like a promise we missed.

Verse 1

The streetlamp throws a crooked arm across the faded baseball diamond. Your initials carved in concrete still read like yesterday’s handwriting. The parking lot’s empty now— just a stray shopping cart spinning in the cold wind’s grip.

Chorus

You’re a neon ghost leaning on the dash, radio humming some forgotten song. Time don’t pass the same two ways— it’s a tunnel or a blinder light. You’re a neon ghost leaning on the dash, radio humming some forgotten song. Time don’t pass the same two ways— it’s a tunnel or a blinder light.

Verse 2

I press the gas but slow my roll, half-expecting you to flag me down. The principal’s office window’s dark, no detention slips left on the ground. A single shoeprint in the frost, too small to ever fit me right.

Bridge

I should’ve waved. Should’ve touched the sign. Instead I let the past ride shotgun.

Outro

Neon ghost leaning on the dash leaning on the dash le—

Verse 1

Your fur's gone gray, your eyes are dim I remember when you'd chase sticks with me Now you lie by the door, waiting to see If I'll come back to you, like I used to be

Chorus

Oh, my old friend, I've been away Time took its toll, and you're fading each day I wish I could turn back the hands of time To when your tail would wag, and your eyes would shine

Verse 2

I recall the nights, you'd curl up tight By my side, a warmth that felt just right Your snores, a lullaby, that would sing me to sleep Now your breathing's slow, your body weak

Bridge

Summer's come, and gone, and come again I've missed so many moments, so many years of your life I'm left with memories, of a dog so bold Now your steps are slow, your heart grows old

Outro

Fading footsteps, in my mind I see you running, one last time Fading footsteps, echoing away Oh, my old friend, I'll stay with you, till the end of day Fading footsteps, in my mind I'll hold on to the memories, of our time Fading footsteps, echoing away Oh, my old friend, I'll stay with you.

Verse 1

Your coffee’s gone cold in the chipped mug Last night’s dishes still stacked in the sink The cat’s on the sill where the light hits wrong Two-thirty and the sky gone pink

Chorus

This is the last day of a bad year Not much to show, nothing to fear I sweep the floor but the broom’s no good Leave the mess where the dust has stood This is the last day of a bad year Not much to show, nothing to fear I light the candle but don’t make a wish Blow it out when it gutters and his

Verse 2

The neighbor’s radio plays some old tune Distant laughter that cuts through the glass I trace the cracks in the ceiling again Watch them hold up the years that have passed

Bridge

Outside the fog’s thicker than all of my plans I could walk to the corner and back But the curb is too near and the air’s in my hands And I don’t want to step off the track

Outro

One more hour till the New Year begins Still half a cup of the bad, black brew I pour it out on the freezing concrete Watch the steam rise and fade into blue

Verse 1

You said a pinch and I held my breath, pictured your hands in the kitchen at half-past ten. Seven-thirty here, eight-thirty in your time — every beat of the hour tasted like your rhyme.

Chorus

I’m measuring shadows on the counter light, following voices that won’t say goodnight. Of all the ways I learned to hold something close, this sticky dough keeps you the most. I’m counting the rings on the kitchen light, reciting the way that you hold the night. Of all the things I measured out too fast, this warm loaf rises slow from the past.

Verse 2

Brown sugar meant soft, not too sweet, orange rind for the skin of your sheet. You paused to sneeze behind the phone, and I learned the shape of the laugh you own.

Bridge

Next time you visit, the oven’s off, but the counter still smells like the proof is soft.

Outro

A pinch and I held my breath, pictured your hands in the kitchen at half-past ten.

Verse 1

Your boots still by the back door where you kicked them off Phone charger dangling like a last hope left unsaid I moved your coffee cup but left the steam in the room Guess some things cool slow when the fire’s out for good

Chorus

We drew our lines so tidy, framed them in the dark Each of us swore the other wouldn’t leave a mark Neither side let go, neither side let go

Verse 2

Half my laundry’s folded neat inside the cedar chest Mismatched socks still bear the wrinkles of your step Christmas lights stare down like empty promises I strung them up twice, then finally gave it up

Bridge

The blanket on the couch still smells like cocoa butter and old regret I don’t reach for it anymore—I just let the couch forget

Outro

Let the room forget the half of me that still expects you Let the room forget the half of you that still expects too Let the room forget, let the room forget

Verse 1

The hallway still holds the echo of laughter, A glass of red rests on the side table, The couch cushions keep the shape of a sigh, Your coat drapes over the arm, a soft silhouette, Moonlight pools through the curtains, a thin silver spill, A single candle flickers, breathing a quiet flame, The scent of cinnamon lingers, as if you never left, And I hear the soft click of the last lock turning.

Chorus

When the door closes, the world thins to a single breath, I sit in the hush, feeling the room stretch around me, Every corner hums a low, familiar note, And I let the stillness settle, like a song without a bridge.

Verse 2

The kitchen light hums low, a lone bulb in the night, A half‑written note lies on the counter, ink still wet, Your coffee cup cools, a faint steam rising like a memory, The floorboards remember the rhythm of our steps, A stray shoe waits by the entry, patient for a return, Outside, the street glows faintly, a distant lullaby, I trace the outline of a smile on the back of a chair, And the silence folds around me, gentle as a sigh.

Bridge

I close my eyes and hear the soft rustle of curtains, Feel the cool air sweep past the open window, Let the quiet fill the spaces where voices once lived, Holding each breath as if it were a promise.

Outro

When the door closes, I breathe, I breathe, I breathe, When the door closes, the night sings, sings, sings, When the door closes, I find the peace, the peace, the peace, When the door closes, I linger, linger, linger.

Verse 1

Seventeen wrapped in denim smelled like dusk and diesel, Your promises fit in a back pocket like loose change. We swore on the hood of a Chevy ‘til the engine cooled down, Spoke the words the hard way—no soft-landing.

Chorus

Can you still hear it humming? That June night when the air didn’t breathe right. I traded my “forever” for a “maybe,” But the road don’t mind, it don’t mind the weight. Can you still hear it humming? That June night when the air didn’t breathe right. I traded my “forever” for a “maybe,” But the road don’t mind, it don’t mind the weight.

Verse 2

Your letter showed up last November ink-wet with rain, Sent from somewhere I’ll never drive through. It said, “Take it slow, kid,” but the brakes gave out, And the miles keep laughing the same old tune.

Bridge

Back then the sky was big enough to swallow whole, Now it’s just the same light I can’t look up to. Your sixteen freckles mapped my atlas, Left me chasing colors I couldn’t read.

Verse 1

I step out into the evening, feeling the weight lift The city's sounds, a gentle hum, a soothing shift From the excitement that filled the room, to this calm pace I breathe the air, and let my thoughts find their space The sidewalk's familiar rhythm, a comforting beat As I make my way, my heart still skips, my soul repeats

Chorus

Oh, the walk home, with good news in my heart Feeling alive, yet somehow, we're apart In this quiet moment, I savor the delight The world's a softer place, on this gentle, summer night Oh, the walk home, with good news in my heart Feeling alive, yet somehow, we're apart In this quiet moment, I savor the delight The world's a softer place, on this gentle, summer night

Verse 2

I pass by the park, where children's laughter used to fill Now, the swings are still, the only sound, the wind's gentle will I think of all the moments, that led me to this place The struggles, the doubts, the fears, the smiling face Of someone who believed, in me, when I couldn't see The path that unwound, like a thread, to this destiny

Bridge

And as I turn the corner, onto my street The streetlights cast, a warm, golden repeat I feel the joy, spreading, like a slow, sweet flame Illuminating, the love, the hope, the heart that bears my name

Outro

Oh, the walk home, with good news in my heart Feeling alive... we're apart... yet we never are In this quiet moment... I savor... the delight The world's a softer place... on this gentle summer night... tonight...

Verse 1

Forties and twenties spread out on the oak My fingers damp from counting what I made this week The overhead bulb flickers every time I breathe And the house stays quiet while I tally up the fee

Chorus

Stacking tens on a table meant for dinner Paying for the hours that take away the living Count it twice 'cause the first time felt so hollow Every bill is a tomorrow I had to borrow

Verse 2

Coffee ring from this morning still staining the wood I told myself I'd rest when the number got good But good keeps moving every time I get close And my back aches from the chair and the posture I hold

Bridge

Maybe I could call you Say I'm almost done But I'd have to admit What this routine has become

Outro

Counting on a table Counting on a table, baby Pennies and the dimes and the hours that I gave All these ones and fives won't bring back the day Counting on a table Just counting on a table Ooh, just counting on a table, yeah

Verse 1

Your boots on the gravel one step behind I counted the tracks but not the time The departure board said what it did I watched the wheels chew the dark instead

Chorus

I let the last whistle blow clean through Now the echo’s the only part of you I left my name on the back of a seat That never learned the sound of your feet

Verse 2

The coffee got cold in a paper cup The schedule said summer would never shut I folded a receipt like a map of the line That forgot to stop where you were mine

Bridge

Next train’s still coming, but I won’t board I’ll hum the songs you sang to me aboard

Outro

Through the window the dark keeps rearranging itself Through the window the dark keeps rearranging