Dust on the floor, and my hands won’t heal Static on the radio, nothing feels real You left your boots by the backdoor light Said you’d be gone by Friday night
Cigarette ash in the windowsill Drunk on dreams I can’t sit still Broken glass on the basement floor I can’t remember what I’m fighting for
Midnight call — I let it ring Burnt-out words don’t mean a thing You get high, I fade to black Still chasing what I can’t get back
Empty bed and a static screen I chase ghosts in every scene The house still smells like your goodbye I light a match and let it die