[Intro – warm clean electric guitar, melodic bass, gentle driving drums] [Verse 1 – intimate melodic female vocal] Found an old photo buried in my phone, Friday night, someone's kitchen, half the faces barely known. Cheap wine on the counter, someone laughing out of frame, I stared at it for ages trying to remember everyone's name. God, we looked happy. God, we looked young. Like nothing bad had happened and nothing had begun. Then I remembered that night. I hated my hair. I wanted to go home. I spent half the fucking evening staring at my phone. [Pre-Chorus – gentle build] Funny how a memory cleans up all the mess, Keeps the light, cuts the boredom, makes the ordinary precious. Maybe nothing changed. Maybe time just changed the view. Maybe I was missing then while wishing I was somewhere new. [Chorus – warm bittersweet punk vocal] What if the good old days are right now? What if I'm standing in them and I don't know how? What if this kitchen, this street, this stupid town becomes the thing I'd give anything to have back around? I've spent so long looking behind— What if the good old days are happening this time? [Instrumental – warm crunchy guitar hook] [Verse 2 – fuller melodic vocal] There's a mark beside the doorway that I keep meaning to repaint, Cupboard doesn't close properly, tap's been leaking for an age. Neighbour plays shit music, traffic wakes me up, Same chair every evening, same chipped fucking coffee cup. Nothing here feels special. That's what scares me now. Because nothing back then felt special somehow. Those nights I miss like hell were Tuesdays at the time, Just another week I couldn't wait to leave behind. [Pre-Chorus – drums building] Maybe I'll miss this kitchen. Maybe I'll miss this street. Maybe these boring Thursday nights are already memories. Maybe I'll miss complaining about the things that piss me off. Maybe you never hear the ending till the moment's fucking gone. [Chorus – larger, bittersweet] What if the good old days are right now? What if I'm standing in them and I don't know how? What if these people, these rooms, these nights I barely count are exactly what I'll cry about when they're nowhere to be found? I've spent so long looking behind— What if the good old days are happening this time? [Instrumental Break – emotional melodic guitar, driving bass] [Bridge – tender fully sung vocal] I don't wanna photograph every second that I live. Don't wanna turn each ordinary day into something it isn't. I just wanna notice once in a fucking while that nobody has to leave before I realise I smiled. That a night can just be good without becoming something more. That home can just be home before it's somewhere from before. And maybe growing older doesn't have to mean collecting perfect memories of places I forgot to see. [Band gradually builds] [Final Verse – increasingly emotional melodic vocal] So tonight I'll leave the dishes. Let the stupid tap still drip. Sit here with the window open, listen to the traffic hiss. Call somebody just because. Stay up later than I should. Not because this night is special— [Voice becoming rougher] but because right now it's good. And ten years from tonight if I'd give anything somehow to sit exactly where I'm sitting— I wanna fucking know I was here while it was now. [Final Chorus – huge emotional melodic punk vocal] WHAT IF THE GOOD OLD DAYS ARE RIGHT NOW? WHAT IF THIS IS EVERYTHING I'LL SOMEDAY DREAM ABOUT? THIS KITCHEN! THIS STREET! THE PEOPLE STILL AROUND! THE BORING LITTLE MOMENTS I KEEP TRYING TO TUNE OUT! I'VE SPENT SO LONG MISSING ANOTHER TIME— I DON'T WANNA MISS THIS ONE WHILE IT'S STILL FUCKING MINE! [Final chorus continues, warmer] Maybe the good old days are right now. Maybe I don't need to figure everything out. Maybe someday I'll miss exactly this— So tonight I'm gonna let myself remember it like this. [Outro – clean guitar and melodic bass] [Soft fully sung female vocal] Nothing happened today. It was good.
