[Cold Open: close low baritone; isolated pluck motif] There’s a life after you I just haven’t lived it yet [Intro: eight bars; pulse grows; filtered bass opens] [Verse 1: restrained, spacious] I moved the chair beside the window You always liked it by the wall Bought a record you would never play Let it turn while evening falls There’s a place across the river Someone said I ought to try I put the address in my phone And for once I don’t ask why [Build: rising harmony; steady vocal] I don’t need to call this freedom I don’t need to say I’m fine I just need to leave the doorway One foot at a time [Chorus: broad simple melody; restrained intensity] There’s a life after you I just haven’t lived it yet There are nights I haven’t danced through There are people I haven’t met There’s a life after you I can feel it up ahead I don’t have to stop remembering To make a new memory instead [Drop: sixteen bars; four-note pluck; rolling bass] After you After you I haven’t lived it yet [Verse 2: groove thins; intimate lead] Nobody here knows what I’ve lost Nobody asks about your name Someone spills a drink and laughs I move aside and do the same Then a song I’ve never heard before Makes me close my eyes For a minute I don’t check my phone And the minute feels like mine [Build: percussion rises; unresolved chord] I thought moving on meant leaving Every good thing we had behind But I can keep the years you gave me And still have the rest of mine [Chorus: warmer; wider synth harmony] There’s a life after you I just haven’t lived it yet There are nights I haven’t danced through There are people I haven’t met There’s a life after you I can feel it up ahead I don’t have to stop remembering To make a new memory instead [Breakdown: bare pluck; low voice; no kick] The morning train is nearly empty I watch the river coming through There’s a song still in my head And it has nothing to do with you [Final Drop: sixteen bars; motif finally resolves; brighter voicing] There’s a life after you I’m beginning to believe There’s a life after you And it’s happening to me [Outro: filter closes; intimate final phrase] I haven’t lived it yet But I’m here
