(Verse 1) Your coffee cup still sits there Like you’re walking through the door, And I still catch myself listening For your keys against the floor. There’s a dent left in the mattress On the side where you would sleep, Now the silence stretches louder Than the promises you’d keep. Every hallway holds a memory, Every room still knows your name, This house became a graveyard For everything we couldn’t save. And I swear I hear your laughter Mixed inside the midnight rain, Like the walls are still replaying Every version of our pain. (Pre-Chorus) Maybe homes remember heartbreak Long after people leave, Maybe ghosts aren’t always dead— Maybe sometimes they still breathe. (Chorus) The house still echoes with us, With slammed doors and whispered love, With the nights we held each other And the nights we gave up. Every shadow in the kitchen, Every light left on too long, Feels like pieces of a life I’m still trying to move on from. And no matter how I clean it, No matter how I rearrange, The house still echoes your name. (Verse 2) There’s fingerprints on old picture frames, Faded marks along the wall, Tiny traces of forever Now feel temporary after all. I still avoid the living room Where we sat in separate worlds, Both pretending we were fine While the loneliness unfurled. And the worst part isn’t missing you— It’s missing who we used to be, Before this house became a witness To love dying quietly. (Bridge — soft piano + violin) But maybe someday these walls Will stop sounding like goodbye… Maybe someday this broken place Will finally feel like mine. I’ll open every window, Let the cold night air rush through, And teach this haunted house How to breathe without you. (Final Chorus — emotional lift/drop) The house still echoes with us, But the echoes don’t own me now. I survived the storm inside these rooms, I’m still standing somehow. And though your ghost still lingers In the floorboards and the paint, I’m learning how to fill these halls Without carrying the weight. Because someday these empty rooms Won’t feel like wounds I can’t outrun… They’ll just be proof I lived through someone. (Outro — whispered over rain and violin) The house still echoes… But so do I.
