Rock Lyrics Generator

Verse 1

The foreman’s clipboard, fresh ink smells like copper. You said three weeks, now the schedule’s torn clear through. They stamped my badge with a Friday clock-in, but the cash register’s never taken to the bone like you.

Chorus

I had a train ticket home, but it left without me. What’s wrong with staying when the money still sings? Autumn used to be my favorite season, but the leaves outside the window sound like a rehearsal for winter.

Verse 2

The diner’s radio plays songs we don’t know the words to. I hum along anyway, my mouth full of salt and starlight. Your apron strings still knotted at the waist like you’re standing here, even when the dishes need stacking and the night’s still too young for goodbyes.

Bridge

The sign above the fryolator reads “Smile – we’re hiring.” I wipe grease from my forearms, let it dry in stripes. Maybe home is just a place you leave, not the one you return to when the nights get sharp as this.

Outro

I circle September on the calendar, heavy as a bruise. The kitchen’s quiet except for the hiss of the grill. You said three weeks, now my boots are caked with the color of things I thought I’d outrun by now.

Verse 1

Engine hums low, the road unwinds. Streetlamps flicker like old clock hands. The schoolyard sits quiet, windows dark. A single flag flaps in the night breeze.

Chorus

I drive through memories you left behind. The hallway echoes in the rearview. Every turn a whisper of yesterday. I’m still chasing the sound of lockers closing.

Verse 2

Rain tap‑taps the windshield, soft and steady. The front steps are empty, a lone bench waits. I see my name scratched on the brick, faint. A distant laugh rides the wind, then fades.

Bridge

In the silence I hear the first day’s heartbeat.

Outro

I drive through memories you left behind. The hallway echoes in the rearview. Every turn a whisper of yesterday. I’m still chasing the sound of lockers closing.

Verse 1

Gray crept in at the ears while I watched the sky Your pads wore smooth where the back door used to slide I came home to the slow waltz of your breath Like a metronome ticking me into regret

Chorus

The years were dogs, they ran ahead Laid down in patches where the sun is dead Every goodbye was a leash unclipped too late Now the collar’s loose where the tag should state The years were dogs, they ran ahead Laid down in patches where the sun is dead Every goodbye was a leash unclipped too late Now the collar’s loose where the tag should state (Melodic bend, feedback swell)

Verse 2

Morning light slants like it did through the fence But the yard’s all shadows and your absence You knew every pothole on the way to town Now the road just hums with the ghosts of sound

Bridge

One paw still taps when I scratch behind your old name The rest of you’s gone but that rhythm remains

Outro

I kneel where your water bowl lived in the floor Trace the arc where you poured out your old pour

Verse 1

Snowflakes fall on empty streets Last day of a year that's lost its beat I'm left to wonder where it went wrong The smell of woodsmoke, a fading song

Chorus

Oh, the curtain's closing on a year of pain I'm searching for a light to guide me through the rain The fire's burning out, the embers cold I'm trying to find my way, back to a place to call my own Oh, the curtain's closing on a year of pain I'm searching for a light to guide me through the rain The fire's burning out, the embers cold I'm trying to find my way, back to a place to call my own

Verse 2

I walk alone, through the silent town The only sound, the crunch of snow beneath my feet, a lonely sound I think of all the things, that could've been The what-ifs and the maybes, the ghosts that still linger on

Bridge

In the stillness, I hear a voice A whispered promise, a heartfelt choice To let go of the heartache, to find my way To learn from the mistakes, and start anew someday

Outro

The year is fading out, like a Polaroid in the sun I'm left to wonder, what the future's yet to become The snowflakes keep on falling, a gentle hush As I step into the unknown, with a hopeful rush.

Verse 1

Your voice shrinks down the wire like steam Three cups boiling, salt that lean I nod though you can’t see the burn Measure twice but measure stern

Chorus

Half a teaspoon, then you count Whisper salt like it’s about You left the door ajar last night Now I’m stirring absence right Half a teaspoon, then you count Whisper salt like it’s about You left the door ajar last night Now I’m stirring absence right

Verse 2

Stick the timer by the stove Fork taps plates in measured grooves Recipe’s got your mother’s thumbprint Still warm where you once pinched it

Bridge

Empty bowl, cold burner glow Voice still hums the long slow no

Outro

Half a teaspoon left to go

Verse 1

The coffee’s gone cold on the windowsill Your bookmark stuck between page 12 I left my jacket still on the hook Guess we both forgot what we’re hooking to

Chorus

I gave you the city map, you gave me the rain Neither side got us home again You packed a box, I forgot my name Neither side got us out of the flames I gave you the city map, you gave me the rain Neither side got us home again You packed a box, I forgot my name Neither side got us out of the flames

Verse 2

The streetlight flickers like a dying app Half the words on the screen are half typed back I hear the kettle but no whistle sound Guess we both let the quiet drown us out

Bridge

The walls remember every shade of sigh Every “maybe” cut in half before it could try I trace the cracks you swore you’d never make Still no shape that looks like “us” to remake

Outro

The hook is empty, the rain still falls Both of us standing at the door with all

Verse 1

The barstools still warm where you set your glass A napkin with your lipstick, someone’s laugh echoing the hall Clock says ten-thirty but the neon’s burned itself out I trace the rings your beer left on the counter, count the stains

Chorus

Oh, the quiet after everyone leaves Is just the house respiring without a name Oh, the quiet after everyone leaves Has its own appetite, has its own frame Oh, the quiet after everyone leaves Is just the house respiring without a name Oh, the quiet after everyone leaves Has its own appetite, has its own frame (guitar)

Verse 2

Your coat’s gone but I button it anyway Stands in the doorway like a question I can’t answer Streetlights color the sidewalk in a language I almost know One more pour, then I’ll pour it out the door

Bridge

The floor remembers every step that walked away The walls still hum the songs we swore we’d sing forever I switch off what I can but the fuse is already blown

Outro

Somebody’s keys still on the hook by the door I take them outside where the air’s not any one thing Just the quiet gathering its edges, claiming the night

Verse 1

We were seventeen, a broken compass in our hands You said, “Meet me where the map ends” The street was empty, a single streetlamp humming We scratched the date on a busted fence

Chorus

I still have that word, it’s a line I can’t bend I still hear the echo of that night, raw and loud I’ll stand at the river bend, no matter how long it takes I’m waiting, I’m listening, and I won’t turn away

Verse 2

Years pulled us on separate rails, no sign to turn back I saw your face in a passing train, a flicker, a reminder The promise sat heavy in the back of my mind, a weight I carry I keep the fire of that oath, even when the sky is gray

Bridge

All the noise fades, and I’m left with that simple truth We were raw then, now I’m old, but the line stays straight

Outro

Seventeen’s word still beats on my chest, a steady drum I’ll be there when the river bends, if you still remember.

Verse 1

The streetlamp clicks on at 7:13 My boots kick the same old pebbles Radio hums through an open window Mama’s apple pie cooling in the kitchen I still got the job But the bus just pulled away empty

Chorus

And it’s just me and the sidewalk Counting cracks like loose change Where every step echoes twice First in my shoes then in the air And it’s just me and the sidewalk Counting cracks like loose change Where every step echoes twice First in my shoes then in the air Guitar break

Verse 2

The old man across the way waves once Got his porch light on for company I wave back but don’t cross over Good news feels wrong borrowed in this light The tires hiss on wet pavement Headlights paint my shadow long

Bridge

Twenty-three years in this town Every corner knows my name But the good news didn’t say hello Just left me holding the same old key

Outro

The last light on my block shuts off I got what I wanted Now I got to walk the rest alone

Verse 1

Morning light creeps through the blinds A solitary figure, surrounded by the remains Of last night's tally, the count begins Bills and coins, a scattered mess within

Chorus

Oh, the kitchen table, where fortunes are made And lost, and made again, in the still of the day I'm counting up the pieces, of a life untold Trying to make sense, of the stories yet to be sold Oh, the kitchen table, where fortunes are made And lost, and made again, in the still of the day I'm counting up the pieces, of a life untold Trying to make sense, of the stories yet to be sold

Verse 2

A cigarette burns, in the ashtray by my side As I sort and categorize, the spoils of a long night's ride The clink of glasses, the hum of the fridge A symphony of solitude, as the numbers start to add up and bridge

Bridge

In the silence, I hear the ghosts of my past Whispers of loved ones, and the choices that didn't last The table creaks, beneath the weight of my hands As I search for a glimpse, of a life that's yet to be planned

Outro

The count is done, the tally is complete But the real wealth, lies in the memories I've gathered at my feet The kitchen table, a witness to my strife A reminder of the moments, that make a life.

Verse 1

Your ticket in the waste bin stuck to the side of my coffee cup the conductor’s voice a static hum I let you roll right through

Chorus

I did it on a Tuesday just to watch the smokestack rise I watched the black against the sky and counted every minute I did it on a Tuesday just to hear the wheels complain I watched the taillight fade to gray and counted every minute

Verse 2

The stain on the platform tile still shaped like where you used to stand I trace the rim of yesterday with fingertips turned numb

Bridge

The train before it was just metal the train after it was just gone I was in the middle, I was holding a pocketful of maybe

Outro

Your ticket in the waste bin stuck to the side of my coffee cup

Verse 1

Granddad’s vise still clamped to the workbench Rust won’t let it go The socket set rolled under the shelf Same places I don’t know Mom’s cookie sheets stacked in the corner Flour ghosts on the rim Her laughter’s a little thinner now In the dust at my shins

Chorus

So I stack the jars of screws and nails Try to separate the thin from thick Half the names on the labels blurred Like the parts we just couldn’t fix So I stack the jars of screws and nails Try to separate the thin from thick Half the names on the labels blurred Like the parts we just couldn’t fix

Verse 2

Army blanket folded in a trunk Issued green long ago The smell of mothballs and motor oil Still knows where I go Lawnmower blade leans in the corner Waiting for the tune-up blues Same blade cut through the summer when Her hands held mine and I was new

Bridge

Sun through the grimy window slants On a label that still says “Fred” No one left who knows what it meant That letter, that shape, that red

Outro

I keep the vise, let the rest go Same old clamps, same old ache Some things shouldn’t have to fade away But they do anyway

Verse 1

She counted coins by the laundromat light the kind that hums like a fridge half-dead while thunder rolled slow through the parking lot and the steam from the dryers fogged the windows red

Chorus

First paycheque in the rain fits in the palm of my hand again money’s just paper but it buys me time time to decide if I stay or I climb

Verse 2

I folded the bills inside a greeting card the one that says Congrats, bright future ahead then bought coffee and drove to the riverbank watched the current carry all my ahead

Bridge

A twenty, three tens, and a couple of fives can’t fix the engine or mend the hive but it buys a tank of gas and a tank of light and that’s enough for tonight

Outro

The coins still warm on the dash tonight the engine still warm, the headlights still bright

Verse 1

Morning coffee steams on my porch rail Your door never opens, curtains drawn tight I hear the floorboards creak, a rhythm unseen A smile I never gave, a wave that never lands

Chorus

You’re a story I’m reading without a page A silent song that drifts through the hall I’m standing still while the world moves on

Verse 2

Rain taps the roof, I watch it from my sill A paper left on the steps, no name, just ink The wind slips through the fence, carrying a laugh I can’t name I wonder where your evenings go, hidden in the night

Bridge

All the words I’ve saved for strangers sit on my tongue If I crossed that threshold, would the echo change?

Outro

One day the hallway might hear a single hello And the walls will finally know the sound of us.

Verse 1

The for-sale sign crooked in the yard A realtor’s sticker on the fridge door The washer’s stuck on spin cycle Like the day you swore you’d come back for more

Chorus

And the house breathes Through the gap under the front door And the house aches In the hinge of the attic floor And the house breathes Through the gap under the front door And the house aches In the hinge of the attic floor

Verse 2

Your flannel still hangs on the hook The mug you used is dusted brown A receipt from two Aprils ago And the sink’s unfinished drip countdown

Bridge

I sleep with your pillow over my face So I can’t smell the paint on the walls The bedsprings hum the same wrong key As the trucks that haul your things next fall

Outro

There’s a new family’s shoes by the stand A different scent on the sheets tonight But the house still keeps your morning light Like a secret it won’t sell

Verse 1

Friday nights, under the lights You'd see him, arms crossed, eyes on the fight He'd push you hard, but never too far Believed in you, like you were a shining star

Chorus

And when the game was done, and the crowd went home He'd stay behind, and help you find your way back home Through every loss, and every win He was the one who'd always be there to begin And when the game was done, and the crowd went home He'd stay behind, and help you find your way back home Through every loss, and every win He was the one who'd always be there to begin

Verse 2

Summer mornings, running drills in the heat He'd ride you, but you knew it was to make your feet Faster, stronger, to make you whole He saw the best in you, when you couldn't see your soul

Bridge

Now the seasons pass, and the years go by You're not that kid, but you still hear his voice, you still wonder why He never gave up, even when you felt like quitting He was the one who made you feel like you were worth it

Outro

You're standing on the sidelines now, watching the game And you see him, in the eyes of the ones who still remain The fire, the drive, the will to never give in A legacy lives on, a debt you can never repay, but you'll always give in.

Verse 1

The machine cuts off before the end of my name Left your sweater rolled up in the back of my car again Three days since you texted that you'd think it over My coffee’s cold but the mug’s still in the kitchen sink by the door

Chorus

I keep dialing the same old number Half the world’s gone but you’re still the ghost in the background One ring and the silence answers One ring and the silence answers I keep dialing the same old number Half the world’s gone but you’re still the ghost in the background One ring and the silence answers One ring and the silence answers

Verse 2

Your playlist’s stuck on that bridge we used to sing The records warp where you stacked them on the shelf too long I memorized the cracks in every ceiling tile Just in case you ever called me back to lie

Bridge

Yesterday I drove to every street you loved Counted the cracks in every sidewalk like the stars above If I listen real close I can hear you laugh Three blocks away and still calling back

Outro

The line still hums its busy tune I hang up softly like the evening moon

Verse 1

The rope swing still creaks where we hung it, Summer left its muddy marks on my shins. Frogs are fat now on the far bank, Dandelions choked the swimming hole thin.

Chorus

Oh, the old river doesn’t care what we called it, Doesn’t care if we ever come back. Those summers just slipped down the current, Turned to silt beneath our feet’s old tracks. Oh, the old river doesn’t care what we called it, Doesn’t care if we ever come back. Those summers just slipped down the current, Turned to silt beneath our feet’s old tracks.

Verse 2

I found your name carved in the weeping willow, Letters crumbling like the years between. Cicadas thrum the same afternoon, But the water’s cold as it’s ever been.

Bridge

I waded in where the water ran deep, Half-expecting the bottom to hold my shape. Instead it pushed me on downstream, Like time does with every half-remembered escape.

Outro

I throw a smooth rock, watch it skip three, Not four, not the perfect one we aimed for. The river takes, the river keeps, Leaves me standing on this familiar shore.

Verse 1

The radio’s hum died mid-laugh, clock hands stuck on quarter past before the fridge gave up its hum. Outside, the streetlights dimmed to dust.

Chorus

And the night just took the shapes we made, held them like smoke in its open palm. We lit candles to chase the dark, but shadows follow where the light went calm. And the night just took the shapes we made, held them like smoke in its open palm. We lit candles to chase the dark, but shadows follow where the light went calm.

Verse 2

Your records stacked by the turntable, one track left in the tone arm’s sway. I traced the grooves with silent fingers, wondered when the current comes back.

Bridge

Ten years ago we laughed at storms, called the threat too far to last. Now the power’s down, the dishes dry, and the dark feels almost like the past.

Outro

The breeze through half-open blinds brought the scent of the neighbour’s roses. Faraway sirens, dogs that quit their barking— and the slow hum of the world letting go.

Verse 1

The bell above the door still rattles. Dust settles on the faded sign. Customers drift like late‑night ghosts. My hands hover over the ledger, uneasy. The clock ticks louder than the street.

Chorus

We’re the ones who keep the lights on. No one else will turn the key. When the night pulls its curtain, we stand. This is our ground, and we own it.

Verse 2

The neon “Open” flickers, stubborn. I slam the drawer, hear the metal sigh. Every checkout a small rebellion. The night manager’s stare, a challenge—taken. We push back, the aisles echo our stride.

Bridge

I watch the sunrise paint the storefront gold. The cash box sings a steady rhythm, proof we survived.

Outro

We’re the ones who keep the lights on. No one else will turn the key. When the night pulls its curtain, we stand. This is our ground, and we own it. (repeat)

Verse 1

Tailpipe hissing like a tired man's breath Temp gauge dancing on the red Dashboard lights flicker and then go black Ain't no warning left to give

Chorus

So let it go, let it burn Eighteen years on a single turn No tow truck, no last goodbye I shut the door and watched it die So let it go, let it burn Eighteen years on a single turn No tow truck, no last goodbye I shut the door and watched it die So let it go, let it start again Eighteen years on a single turn No tow truck, no last goodbye I shut the door and walked past by

Verse 2

Pushed it to the shoulder of County Line Where the weeds grow tall and proud Key turned one last time, just for spite Engine clicked like a closing accordion

Bridge

Kept the radio knob from the dash Glove box map marked every bad patch Two good tires left on the rear Ghost in the grille that used to steer

Verse 1

I wake up to the same four walls The ones that never felt like home at all My stomach's tight, my mind's a mess I'm searching for a reason to confess Why I stayed so long in this place

Chorus

But I'm walking out, I'm taking back My life, my space, my own way to react I'm leaving the weight that's held me down Gonna find my own feet on solid ground I'm walking out, I'm taking back My life, my space, my own way to react I'm leaving the weight that's held me down Gonna find my own feet on solid ground

Verse 2

The landlord's voice, it still echoes near Telling me to pay, to calm my fear But I won't be held, I won't be tamed I'm taking control, I'm breaking the chain I'm not the same person who moved in

Bridge

For a moment, I stand in the doorway Looking back at the life I've outgrown It's not regret, it's just a glance At the person I used to be, in this place

Outro

Now I'm standing on the outside Feeling the sun, feeling alive My feet are moving, I'm on my way Leaving the walls, starting a new day

Verse 1

Phone still warm from the last call Fingers hovering over green Voicemail blinking like a streetlamp That never quite decides to lean

Chorus

I’m not the one waiting for the light I’m the one who walks into the dark I’m not the one counting missed connections I’m the one who counted doors and left I’m not the one who needs the next call I’m the one who knows the way back

Verse 2

Message says I’ll understand Signature like a closing door Silence hums through four-inch wires Builds a wall that wasn’t there before

Bridge

No map for the road I’m taking No signal for the way I go

Outro

Phone lights up – screen stays black

Verse 1

Curtains stick to the window like a wet sock Baseboard heater wheezes, forgets its job Keys rattle in the lock, but the car won’t turn over Frost crept up the windshield while I was asleep indoors

Chorus

I won’t beg the thaw, I won’t kneel to the thaw Let the pipes sing their warnings, let the branches crack raw I’ve still got one good coat and the stubborn in my bones First killing frost can’t kill what keeps me warm I won’t beg the thaw, I won’t kneel to the thaw Let the heater cough its last breath, let the drainpipes thaw I’ve still got one good coat and the stubborn in my jaw First killing frost can’t bury the dawn

Verse 2

Sidewalk salt melts to grey slush by noon Neighbors salt their driveways like they salt their wounds They circle the block searching for any lost change I lace my boots for the long walk, not the short range

Bridge

I stand at the edge where the cul-de-sac ends Ice grips the curb like a warning it intends One step would crack it clean—one step and I’m through But I walk back inside to wait the winter out

Outro

Curtains twitch where the sun just can’t reach Heater sighs like the last breath I’ll teach I crack the old thermos, black coffee and light First killing frost hasn’t killed the fight

Verse 1

They hung the porch light where you wanted it, the one with the flicker you said you hated. Ceiling fan’s still set to summer-high like you’ll come back and feel the draft.

Chorus

Now the lock clicks for someone else’s hand, someone else bakes pies I can’t understand. Let ‘em take your old place, let ‘em wear your shoes, I’m burning the list I kept of what we knew. Now the lock clicks for someone else’s hand, someone else bakes pies I can’t understand. Let ‘em take your old place, let ‘em wear your shoes, I’m burning the list I kept of what we knew.

Verse 2

Kid down the block rides that red tricycle through the patch where we planted the roses. Little gloves on the seat like you left ‘em, but the thorns grow back faster than roses.

Bridge

I found your old lighter in the junk drawer, flicked it once in the garage where the air’s thin. Hear the whoosh like a tongue saying goodbye, then I pocketed it, only thing I keep.

Outro

Lock clicks for me now when I let myself in, same house, different weight holding the sill. I leave the porch light on—just to piss off the dark and the couple inside who weren’t sold on the sale.

Verse 1

The hallway smells of lilies and cold perfume My hands shake as the doors swing open wide I’m the only one without a partner’s smile The clock ticks louder than the vows inside

Chorus

I won’t fold, I’ll stand where the crowd expects me to bend I’m louder than the whisper of my own doubts This heart beats like a drum that won’t be silenced

Verse 2

I watch the couple rise, the lights flare bright Their laughter lifts the room, a tide of sound I raise my glass, a stranger turned to witness Pride swells in me, a fire that won’t back down

Bridge

All the empty chairs fade, I’m still here, unshaken The night folds into a quiet promise kept

Outro

I walked in alone, I left a story in the air A single step that turned into a roar.

Verse 1

Mom’s high-school photo clipped to the fridge door flared jeans like sails I never had the guts to wear Dad’s yearbook grin still pasted with the same Sharpie I traced my own name under it with a shaky prayer

Chorus

You were young once, sounds ridiculous now but the proof is the guitar chord you still play somehow I wanted your life to be outgrown and flat instead of humming in the attic like an old record crack You were young once, knocks me sideways when I think that all your scars and grey hair wear the same old ink I wanted every stitch to be undone and thin never guessed the thread was sewing me in

Verse 2

I found your prom ticket in a shoebox liner price still penciled in your slanty teenage script The tuxedo’s yellowed, the dress is brittle but the dance floor’s still spinning in my fingertips

Bridge

Knuckle-wrapped on the doorframe at thirteen asking for a legend, got a birthday cake instead Thirty years later the numbers have not faded— I’m the one now holding the frame, not stuck inside the picture

Outro

So yeah, you were young once—so was I the only difference is which side of the lens I’m trying to climb

Verse 1

My watch is ticking, the clock on the wall Seconds counting down, I'm losing it all I'm stuck in this chair, my legs feel like lead The thought of that plane, it's making me dread The takeoff, the landing, the flight in between My stomach's in knots, my heart's on the scene

Chorus

But I won't back down, I won't give in I'll face this fear, I'll take the leap within I'll find my courage, I'll make my stand I'll board that plane, with my heart in my hand I'm taking control, I'm breaking the mold I'm finding my voice, I'm standing tall and bold I'll face this fear, I'll take the leap within I'll board that plane, with my heart winning

Verse 2

I think of all the reasons I don't want to go The comforts of home, the people I know But I know I must, I have to be strong I'll take a deep breath, and sing my own song I'll rise above, I'll shine like the sun I'll make this journey, and have fun

Bridge

In this quiet moment, before the noise and fray I'll find my inner strength, and seize the day I'll let go of doubt, and let my spirit soar I'll walk onto that plane, like I've never been scared before

Outro

I'm walking to the gate, with my head held high I'm ready for whatever, the sky has in store for me to try I'm proud of myself, for facing my fears I'm taking off, and drying my tears.

Verse 1

Fingers go numb like the coat’s forgotten its shape Outer pocket clings shut with old rain and dust Zipper’s half-broke, teeth missing, one press and it gapes — Nothing spills out but the coat’s old disgrace

Chorus

This coat’s like a safe with the combination lost But tonight it cracked open just wide enough Tucked in its seam where the moths nest the most A receipt from last spring — one fragile ticket home This coat’s like a safe with the combination lost But tonight it cracked open just wide enough Tucked in its seam where the moths nest the most A receipt from last spring — one fragile ticket home This coat’s a ledger, the lining my record Sometimes the moths win, sometimes the rain clears the sky One night it split just enough for an anchor to grab hold One receipt, one breath, one coat learning how to die

Verse 2

Light’s gone soft, I’m leaning against the streetlight Numbers blur, dates bleed like cheap ink in the rain Hand stills — three coffees, one bus ride late at night Same night I drove back from that hollow no-name plain Zipper groans shut, but not before something bruised The lining lets loose a smell of pine and old glue Hands hold the receipt like a badge I’m defused Not the coat that kept me, but the crease I walked through

Bridge

Forget the moths, forget the rain’s erasing tries Listen to the paper whisper against my palm It’s not the coffee rings or the quarter’s disguise — It’s the fact I kept it at all when there was no damn plan

Verse 1

Three unanswered calls on the Saturday night, pavement still humming under neon hum. Your coffee cup sits in my sink at noon— cold as the space where you usually come.

Chorus

I trace the edges of every borrowed word, but the page won’t turn, and the ink won’t blur. Paper trail ends here, but I’m done following, your ghost in the footnotes of every voicemail. I trace the edges of every borrowed word, but the page won’t turn, and the ink won’t blur. Paper trail ends here, but I’m done following, your ghost in the footnotes of every voicemail.

Verse 2

Monday’s half-past when I see your jacket, slung on the back of someone else’s chair. Graffiti on the door says you left town, but your voice still rings like an empty swear.

Bridge

The last thing you said was “I’ll call you back,” now I laugh at the thought of opening that track. Proud as the day I vowed not to wait, proud as the door where you wrote me off late.

Outro

No more dial tone, no more delaying, I light a match to every half-answered prayer. Paper trail ends here—let the ashes scatter, I’m the author now, signing off with air.