Soul Lyrics Generator

Verse 1

That pale blue Chevette wheezed its last on County B I popped the hood just for the old habit's sake Rust had drunk the struts years back, but still we rolled Windows down, your laughter like a summer radio

Chorus

Oh, you couldn’t die before we pulled in Too stubborn even for that final spin So we walked the last half mile together In the orange light past the last summer ever Oh, you couldn’t die before we pulled in Too stubborn even for that final spin So we walked the last half mile together In the orange light past the last summer ever

Verse 2

The starter wouldn’t turn but the battery held tight You said, "It’s quitting time" like it was a choice that night I laughed and pushed us both where the porch light stays Till the sparkle on the pavement turned to carsick grays

Bridge

Funny thing—the dome light stayed lit for miles Like it knew you’d need just one more spotlight smile Now the driveway’s empty but the house still waits For one more tale you won’t have to save

Outro

Headlights off, key left in the door Guess some good things don’t need to ask for more

Verse 1

The hallway smells of old paint and rain‑soaked shoes A dented kettle whistles from the counter where I left it The couch still holds the imprint of my late‑night novels A cracked window frames the street I never learned to love

Chorus

I linger on the coffee stain that looks like a map of yesterday The hallway clock ticks in a rhythm that once matched my heart Every door I close echoes the laughter that never quite left I’m holding onto the ghost of a room that never felt like home

Verse 2

Boxes stack like small forts, each lid a quiet surrender The hallway now feels lighter, the air less thick with dust I pull the last picture from the wall, its frame humming with years The keys jingle in my palm, a metallic promise of open streets

Bridge

The street outside hums a different song, traffic humming like a tide My shoes hit pavement, each step shaking loose the old routine The apartment door clicks shut, and the world feels suddenly wider

Outro

I breathe, the city pulls me forward— (yeah, yeah) (yeah, yeah) (yeah)

Verse 1

Static hums when I turn it up past three Your number still glowing where you left it like a bruise The country code blinked in blue for half the day Like a hinge oil squeak in the back of a porch swing

Chorus

You called from the kitchen wall where the cord got long Just to say the roses are climbing the trellis wrong I put it to my ear but you’d already gone Just the dial tone spinning like a lazy wasp You called from the kitchen wall where the cord got long Just to say the roses are climbing the trellis wrong I hold the phone like a shell to my tongue Hearing waves where your voice used to drown You called from the kitchen wall where the cord got long Just to say the roses—

Verse 2

Dust on the buttons wore into a smile I saved it once but the battery died Now it’s another name in the list Buried under takeout menus and yesterday’s lottery tickets

Bridge

The landline still knows how to wait Rings once for every year we used to talk I let it ring till the old jangle fades Then breathe the last four digits I still know

Verse 1

I woke up to the chill of morning air Memories of winters past, they still linger there My grandmother's kitchen, warm and bright Sunday mornings, pancakes, and the cold winter light

Chorus

Oh, the first frost of the year, it brings me back To the moments that I thought were lost in the past The way the world slows down, and the air is crisp and cold It's a feeling that never gets old

Verse 2

I think of walking to school, through the frosty grass The way my breath would visible, like a mist that would last My friends and I, we'd laugh and play, on those cold winter days And though we've all gone our separate ways, the memories remain

Bridge

But as I stand here now, in this winter morning light I feel a sense of peace, a sense of being just right The world may be quiet, but it's not still There's a beauty in the frost, that I'm grateful to fulfill

Outro

So let the cold wind blow, and the frost settle in I'll wrap my hands around a warm cup, and let the moment spin The first frost of the year, it's a feeling that's mine A sense of comfort, a sense of being home, and being just fine

Verse 1

That wobbly floorboard where you used to stumble in, Still creaks the same hour with each weight on it. The mail piles up, but your copy of Rolling Stone’s Still folded open to page ninety-one.

Chorus

And I’m glad you’re there where I can’t be, Walking past windows that held us, happily. Someone else’s keys now turn the lock, And I don’t mind the air tastes different— I’m just the ghost of your old address, Standing outside with half my life left. And I’m glad you’re there where I can’t be, Walking past windows that held us, happily. Someone else’s keys now turn the lock, And I don’t mind the air tastes different— I’m just the ghost of your old address, Standing outside with half my life left. And I’m glad you’re there where I can’t be… Someone else’s keys now turn the lock…

Verse 2

Your coffee cup’s still waiting by the sink, Stained the color of questions I didn’t ask. The neighbor’s cat keeps leaving gifts on the stoop, Same orange collar as the one you bought.

Bridge

Maybe the walls learned something from you, Maybe the porch swing still swings for two. I don’t come in, but I don’t resent, How someone else’s laughter rings the rooms I sent you from.

Verse 1

Your dress caught the bar light and turned pale as peach I counted the rings you bought at the flea market beach The DJ played our song but I couldn't reach The words stuck somewhere between the starch and the speech

Chorus

Oh, the fountain still runs where we used to hide The water talks back but you don't reply I could stay or I could walk away tonight But the night won't let go of the way it felt right Oh, the fountain still runs where we used to hide The water talks back but you don't reply I could stay or I could walk away tonight But the night won't let go of the way it felt right

Verse 2

The cake sat half-cut on the plastic tray The groom's brother read vows I couldn't say Your bouquet's in my trunk since that cloudy day Wilting the same slow way we fell away

Bridge

Three songs later and her shoes are gone from the floor Just my shadow and the door One more slow one if the band will play I'll leave before the next one fades away

Outro

The fountain runs on, the water talks, but softly now I choose the quiet walk home without a backwards glance or vow

Verse 1

That old record spun a scratch you couldn't hear Grandma's hands would waltz the dishes clean A story about a boy who walked ten miles To mail a letter that wasn't ever seen You traced the dates on Grandpa's army tag Saw June '42 inked in careful lines

Chorus

They were young once, yeah Dancing in the kitchen, not careful They were young once, yeah Time's just numbers we assigned They were young once, yeah Borrowed records, late-night records They were young once, yeah Time's just numbers we assigned

Verse 2

The same coat hanger held ten different shapes Before the radio started counting hits Mom's first mistake got written in pencil On the wall calendar behind the pantry door Dad balanced change for a soda fountain dream Before the prices ever changed the name

Bridge

Hand me down the photo with the rolled-up sleeve That boy grew up the same way we do now The stripes on his sleeve aren't in my yearbook But I know the weight of what they mean somehow

Outro

Put away the album, leave the record spun Numbers fade but the hands stay on the wall

Verse 1

The hallway smells of coffee left too long. Your suitcase sighs as the zipper catches a memory. The clock on the wall ticks louder than the radio. A photo of the porch sits folded in the pocket of a jacket. Footsteps echo on the tile, each one a quiet goodbye.

Chorus

I watch the runway lights blink like distant fireflies. The boarding call feels like a question I’m not ready to answer. Your voice drifts through the terminal, a song I’ve heard a thousand times. I hold the ticket, a thin slice of tomorrow, and let the past linger.

Verse 2

The gate number glows, a reminder of the road ahead. A child’s laugh from the café drifts past my ear, bright and brief. The seat beside me remains empty, a placeholder for what I’m leaving. Rain taps the windows, each drop a soft drum on the world outside. I trace the route on the map, remembering every stop that felt like home.

Bridge

The engine hums, a low promise that the sky will hold me steady. I breathe in the scent of polished metal and steady resolve. The moment stretches, then folds, and I find a quiet smile. There’s a calm in the unknown, a gentle tide pulling me forward. I stand, passport in hand, ready for the next chapter.

Outro

The gate fades behind me, the world shifts, I’m moving. (Ad‑libs)

Verse 1

that faded map from the diner off Route 9 stained with mustard, tears like time itself the corner folded where the waitress wrote “wear shoes—summer’s back already”

Chorus

so I keep it tucked inside the lining where the coat keeps what it can’t decide to lose tiny ghosts of hands that used to hold me now just paper in the dark so I keep it tucked inside the lining where the coat keeps what it can’t decide to lose tiny ghosts of hands that used to hold me now just paper in the dark

Verse 2

old receipts line the pocket like years a movie stub for that one film we never saw coupon for two large pizzas—never used the pen’s run dry but writes anyway

Bridge

the lining breathes, soft with forgotten winters, and I wonder how it chooses what to keep

Outro

tiny ghosts of hands that used to hold me

Verse 1

I remember nights we'd talk all evening Sharing stories, laughter, and our deepest thinking Your number's still in my phone, same as it's always been But now it's just a reminder of the silence between

Chorus

Oh, where did we lose our way? I'm left here wondering, night and day If I'll ever hear your voice again

Verse 2

Summer afternoons we'd spend by the river Watching the world go by, feeling alive, and free to deliver Our dreams and fears, our hopes and desires But now those memories feel like a distant, fading fire

Bridge

Maybe it's time for me to let go To find my own path, and learn to grow Without the weight of what we used to be I'll find my own way, and learn to be free

Outro

And as I look back, I see the beauty in our past A chapter closed, but the memories will forever last I'm at peace now, with a heart that's full and light I'll hold on to the good times, and let the rest fade out of sight

Verse 1

Your name still in the break room fridge next to the cooler Gatorades in July the boss keeps promising Friday overtime but the clock’s running slow on Tuesday night

Chorus

These four more summers feel familiar like the radio voices we already know turn it up so the foreman can’t hear us four more summers in a borrowed town These four more summers feel familiar like the radio voices we already know turn it up so the foreman can’t hear us four more summers in a borrowed town

Verse 2

The motel shower curtain’s got a tear right where the steam hits the ceiling each year I know the curve of every pothole from here to the plant gate at zero hour

Bridge

Yesterday I counted forty-three paychecks printed on the same dot-matrix machine and the night crew waved hello again same tired joke, same worn-out keys

Outro

Four more summers in a borrowed town four more summers singing the same refrain

Verse 1

The playground’s just a fence tied up in string lights You can’t tell the swings from the sagging parking lot I slow to where the yellow lines fade Only the old brick chimney stands like it’s waving

Chorus

Backroads to the past, all wrong and half forgot Headlights paint the cracks in the pavement like a map I’m here, I’m here, nothing left that I need Just the echo of a laugh I don’t recognize Backroads to the past, all wrong and half forgot Headlights paint the cracks in the pavement like a map I’m here, I’m here, nothing left that I need Just the ghost of your voice on the radio Backroads to the past, all wrong and half forgot You were never coming back, so I just keep going I’m here, I’m here, nothing left that I need Just the engine humming like a hello

Verse 2

The gym doors still open when the wind hits right You can hear the bleachers creak under every step I turn the wheel toward the diner down the block Where the coffee stays too long and the jukebox forgets

Bridge

Leave the high beams on Drive right through the old stop sign The engine keeps time Keeps time with the radio

Verse 1

The gate still creaks where you used to press your paw The porch swing groans under the weight of time we saw Your water bowl stays full, but your teeth stay brown The vet said hearts don't need a town

Chorus

Oh my old friend, you waited just for me Left your bones where my hands could reach Oh my good dog, let the years be kind You ran the race, now you can rest your mind Oh my old friend, you waited just for me Left your bones where my hands could reach Oh my good dog, let the years be kind You ran the race, now you can rest your mind

Verse 2

We'd run the woods before the heat of June Your nose knew every rabbit's jump and tune Now the leash hangs still, the trees stand tall The path we walked has grown too small

Bridge

I'd trade each mile we didn't walk For one more hour to hear you talk But silence sounds the loudest here Between the ears that used to listen so near

Outro

Oh my good dog, you knew when it was time To close your eyes just one last climb

Verse 1

The clock on the wall has stopped at twelve past three. A coffee mug sits cracked, half‑full, beside the window. Outside, the street sweeps past in a steady gray. My phone buzzes with messages I no longer read. Old photographs flutter like leaves in a quiet room.

Chorus

This is the last day, the one we keep remembering. The same old song plays, but the notes feel softer now. We hold the year’s ending like a fragile thread. Let it slip, let it turn, let it breathe.

Verse 2

The winter coat hangs on the chair where you left it. A snowflake lands on the sill and melts before I notice. The hallway echoes steps we used to share. A diary page turns, ink smudged by yesterday’s rain. The scent of pine lingers from a tree we never planted.

Bridge

I close the window, feel the calm settle like dust on a shelf. The world outside slows, and I find room to smile. All the weight of the months folds into a quiet peace.

Outro

This is the last day, we breathe it out. (soft ad‑lib) (soft ad‑lib) (soft ad‑lib)

Verse 1

Measuring spoons still in the drawer from back when your hands showed me where the steam curls too high

Chorus

Fold it gentle like you taught me to fold it three teaspoons of that old light Fold it gentle like you taught me to

Verse 2

The phone’s pressed to my shoulder, your sugar bowl half empty but I know the exact level where it stops being too much

Bridge

You say the pan’s not seasoned right, listen to the sizzle I swear I can still taste the first one you let me make

Outro

Fold it gentle like you taught me to fold it

Verse 1

Summer evenings, we'd drive all night Windows down, music loud, feeling alive We'd talk about our dreams, our hearts beating fast I thought our love would last, but now I'm not so sure

Chorus

Oh, we were invincible, or so it seemed Our love was a flame, that burned out of dreams We said forever, but forever's come and gone And now I'm left to wonder, where did we go wrong?

Verse 2

I remember laughter, tears, and all the fights The way we used to make up, on those long, sleepless nights We'd hold each other tight, and promise to try But the memories linger, and I don't know why

Bridge

Maybe we were blind, maybe we were young Maybe our love was a moment, that's never coming back But in the fading light, I see your face And for a moment, I'm at peace, in this empty space

Outro

And I'll hold on to that, the memories we made The love we had, it will always be a part of me I'm okay, I'm okay, it's alright We may not have won, but we lived, and that's enough tonight

Verse 1

The chairs are stacked to one side now Fluorescent hum still buzzing in the walls Your laughter’s down to a last echo Hanging over the till, hanging over the half-drunk beers

Chorus

I’m alright in the quiet after No one left to talk to, no one to please I’m alright in the quiet after The light hits the floor just the way it used to I’m alright in the quiet after No one left to talk to, no one to please I’m alright in the quiet after The light hits the floor just the way it used to

Verse 2

The lock turns with a sound like surrender Dishes still stacked by the warm kitchen light Your sweater’s draped on the back of my chair Holding the room like it’s holding you tonight

Bridge

Dishes don’t rattle like when you were here Floorboards don’t sigh when they hear my steps Time takes the sharp edge off most things Leaves just the echo that lingers the best

Outro

I’m alright in the quiet after Light hits the floor just the way it used to

Verse 1

The streetlamp hums where we parked that night Your jacket’s still in my closet light I trace the stitch where the seam gave way Like you traced the freckles down my waist

Chorus

I’m walking backward through our old town The chain gang whistle blows at dawn Their song still sounds just like your voice When you said forever was our choice I’m walking backward through our old town The chain gang whistle blows at dawn Their song still sounds just like your voice When you promised love had no other choice

Verse 2

The diner sign’s half painted red Your coffee cup still on the ledge I scrape the wax where candles burned Like candle wax was what we learned

Bridge

Now the river’s higher than the bridge The current’s slow but it won’t forgive I watch the moon throw silver down Like you threw promises on the ground

Outro

I keep the jacket, leave the rest The streetlight’s dim, the night’s a guest Its hums still know the shape of us— The way we knew is how it buzzes

Verse 1

Three blocks home and I still taste the coffee same as the night she told me she was leaving damp sidewalk reflects the corner streetlight where I stood fifteen years ago

Chorus

and it don’t matter what the paper says I’m walking through this town anyway feet know the cracks better than my name and it don’t matter what the papers say I’m riding through this town today memories hum like an old blacktop tune

Verse 2

Bus exhaust curls around my ankles just like it did when I was seventeen hand still warm where the check got printed third time this month they said yes

Bridge

One block left where the bakery used to be that cinnamon smell still hangs in the air funny how a yes can taste like a morning

Outro

Third block done pass the house I almost bought wish I’d known the good news then would’ve taken the long way

Verse 1

The kitchen light flickers over a chipped wooden slab A coffee mug sits empty, steam long gone Your old denim shirt hangs on the chair back Fingers trace the crease of a fifty-dollar bill The rust on the cash register drawer sighs A clock ticks past midnight, the house breathing slow

Chorus

I watch the numbers rise, like a tide pulling back I watch the numbers rise, each bill a quiet echo I watch the numbers rise, and the night feels softer

Verse 2

Morning pours gold through the window, dust dancing on the table A soft clink of coins meets the rustle of receipts Your laugh still lingers in the scent of cinnamon rolls I add a fresh stack, the pile steadies like a promise The world outside hums, but here the count feels steady

Bridge

Now the ledger feels full, the weight balanced in my palm The kitchen hums a steady rhythm, no rush, just peace Every bill rests easy, a quiet companion on the surface

Outro

I watch the numbers rise, (yeah) I watch the numbers rise, (hmm) I watch the numbers rise… (ad‑libs)

Verse 1

I counted every crack between the rail ties watched the gravel coffins close their mouths left my ticket stub in the vending machine still warm from the hand I never showed

Chorus

So I go home by the back road laughing where the dipper calls me by the wrong name the tracks are still warm where I left the future and I swear that whistle sounds just like my name So I go home by the back road laughing where the dipper calls me by the wrong name the tracks are still warm where I left the future and I swear that whistle sounds just like my name

Verse 2

The depot clock runs ten minutes slow rust eating the hands like one bad debt I trace the schedule with a stubby pencil but the numbers blur like ink gone tepid

Bridge

Maybe the conductor’s looking for me maybe the conductor’s not maybe the moon’s just a nickel I spent on a prayer as hollow as the rest

Outro

So I go home by the back road laughing where the dipper calls me by the wrong name the tracks are still warm where I left the future and the whistle just calls me—by my name

Verse 1

I'm standing here, surrounded by the past Old boxes, faded labels that won't last I see your name, on a trunk in the corner Memories come flooding, like the morning

Chorus

Oh, the ghosts that we've made, they still remain But I'm letting go, of the love and the pain I'm finding my way, through the dust and the grime Clearing out, one box at a time

Verse 2

I found that old photograph, of our summer night Laughter and tears, and a love that felt just right I remember the way, you used to hold my hand But now I'm holding, a box that's empty and grand

Bridge

It's not about forgetting, it's about moving on Making space for something new, where love can be strong I'm not the same person, that I used to be And that's okay, that's just me

Outro

Now the garage is empty, the sun shines through I feel a sense of peace, that I never knew I'm clearing out, the last of the past And I'm ready, to make this moment last

Verse 1

That envelope smelled like menthol and spilt coffee, nine o'clock crunch of wheels on wet gravel shining. Mom's slippers left by the door at 4:47, the exact minute the bank clerk slid it toward me.

Chorus

Take a deep breath, kid, the world just paid its rent, count it slow so you learn how money's really spent. Your very first pay slip, baby, first proof you're in the room, hold it up to the light like you're counting down the groom. Take a deep breath, kid, the sky didn't cave in, quarter till midnight, exactly six days from when you started folding papers while the rest of the block was still hitting snooze on their first job shock.

Verse 2

The boss man said, "Son, you earned your stripes today," two black coffee rings on the counter where I laid it. Dad's old wallet still open on the kitchen table, photos of men I never met tucked where the cash stays.

Bridge

The ink's still wet on fingers, the sting of paper cut, but the numbers add up straight and suddenly you're up. Not rich, not free—just a man who's finally paid for the gas to get back home again.

Outro

Sleeves rolled up, shirt buttons catching the light, the envelope tucked inside like a seed in the night. Not a fortune, not a curse—just enough to plant, just enough to learn how work feels under hand.

Verse 1

I remember her blue morning glories Blooming in a chipped terracotta pot Every July, same stubborn stalks She’d catch the light before she shut the door

Chorus

The woman in 4B, did you ever know? I used to watch from my kitchen sink The kettle whistled just that one quick note And you’d pour your coffee slow The woman in 4B, did you ever know? I used to count her footfalls down the stairs The heel hit tile, the toe caught air Always Wednesday, same perfume tone

Verse 2

The postal truck that hit the oak at four Echoed down the hall for days She’d leave her peach cobbler on the sill Sunset melted the syrup to syrup gold

Bridge

Now the super paints the railing white And the gladiolus come up dull I miss the ticking of her old radiator The way it settled every single fall

Outro

The woman in 4B

Verse 1

Last load of dishes stacked in morning sun, cabinet doors left open like before a storm. The fridge hums the same old lullaby we knew, but now it sounds like someone counting what’s left to move.

Chorus

This house is learning how to let go, walls still warm from where the years would glow. I lie here breathing in the ghost of bread, knowing when the sun comes up I won’t be fed. This house is learning how to let go, walls still warm from where the years would glow. I lie here breathing in the ghost of bread, knowing when the sun comes up I won’t be fed.

Verse 2

Upstairs the closet holds my winter coat, sleeves won’t meet where we would once have stitched. A single lightbulb swings from hallway fray, projects your shadow long before it fades away.

Bridge

Morning finds me on the porch in yesterday’s shoes, watching curtains tremble in a wind I can’t name. One last time I trace the splintered sill, then leave the key beneath the mat like normal still.

Outro

This house is learning how to let go

Verse 1

The field was a flat of cold grass under sunrise. Your whistle cut through the mist like a metronome. I remember the ache in my calves after the first lap. Your hand clapped my shoulder when I stumbled. The smell of pine from the bleachers lingered in the air. You counted each drop of sweat as if it mattered. I watched my shadow stretch and shrink with every drill.

Chorus

You kept me moving when my legs felt heavy. You kept me moving when the world seemed still. You kept me moving, and I learned to breathe again.

Verse 2

Now the stadium lights are distant memories, but the rhythm stays. I run a mile in the city, headphones humming your cadence. Your voice echoes when I push past the finish line. I smile at the echo, feeling the steadiness you gave. The ache is softer now, replaced by quiet pride. I carry your playbook in the pocket of my mind.

Bridge

I stand where I once fell, steady on my own. The lessons you taught are the steps I still take. Grateful for the patience that never faded.

Outro

You kept me moving. (Ad‑libs)

Verse 1

Operator hums the same old tune looks just like the booth at the corner of June I left my quarters on the ledge again

Chorus

But the line still answers when I press the numbers in some ghost still knows the pattern of my skin the old payphone still rings And the line still answers when I press the numbers in some ghost still knows the pattern of my skin the old payphone still rings

Verse 2

Mom’s handwriting on the sticky note area code and the number I once wrote ink’s long dried but I dial it again

Bridge

I used to think it was just echoes now I leave it ringing just the same maybe the future’s just ghosts calling back

Outro

the old payphone still rings the old payphone still rings

Verse 1

I remember the river, where I learned to swim My siblings and I, we'd spend the whole day in The water was warm, the sun was high We'd dive and we'd splash, and we'd laugh 'til we'd cry

Chorus

Oh, those summer days, they went by so fast I'm left here, remembering the past The river's still flowing, but I'm far away From the joy and the freedom of those summer days

Verse 2

I recall the feeling, of the current's gentle sway It would carry me downstream, to a bend in the way Where the willows would whisper, and the fish would play And I'd feel like I was, a part of something bigger than me, every day

Bridge

But as I stand here now, with my feet in the sand I feel the river's peace, it's where I am The memories come flooding, but they don't feel so sad 'Cause I know I'm exactly, where I'm meant to be, and that's not so bad

Outro

And as I wade into, the water's gentle flow I feel my heart release, and my spirit start to glow The river's still got, its summer charm And I'm grateful for, the memories that disarm Oh, the river's still flowing, and I'm home at last (yeah, I'm home, yeah, I'm free, yeah, I'm exactly where I'm meant to be)

Verse 1

You were tracing the numbers on my watch face Your fingertips cold from the kite we let loose The radio sighed fitful FM ghosts A station from somewhere no one’s left to know

Chorus

And the lights just went out like we planned No sirens, no fuss, just town holding its breath No bad news in the dark, just us in the embers The night it decided to stay with us And the lights just went out like we planned No sirens, no fuss, just town holding its breath No bad news in the dark, just us in the embers The night it decided to stay with us

Verse 2

You’re laughing now at the candles I bought The tall ones meant for birthday cakes instead Their wax melts sideways, perfect small flames You say the stars look decent after all these years

Bridge

Silence wore my old flannel the way only silence could Your shoulder keeps the warmth of that cheap wool I’m two rooms over counting the same thoughts No need to call them home again

Outro

The lights will flicker back tomorrow Telling us where to go and when to leave But tonight the town is soft and low and ours

Verse 1

Third coffee’s gone cold in its tray Ain’t no customers left to betray Bills stacked like odds in a losing game Not even the coffee’s got the same name

Chorus

Tonight it’s just you and the sign that says closed Half the letters missing, half of them lost Ain’t no rush, ain’t no need to pretend Lock up the dreams, but we’ll do it again Tonight it’s just you and the sign that says closed Half the letters missing, half of them lost Ain’t no rush, ain’t no need to pretend Lock up the dreams, but we’ll do it again Tonight it’s just you and the sign that says closed Half the letters gone, but you’re almost home Ain’t no rush… lock up the dreams Ain’t no rush

Verse 2

Scrubbed the floor till my knee gave out Mop’s still wet when they locked the door out Cash register’s humming a tired tune Like the hum of a streetlight that’s seen this too soon

Bridge

Seventy years in a single square of light Fading quicker than neon on a Sunday night You’re still counting the pennies, still checking the locks Still pretending tomorrow won’t drop like a box