[Intro – clean warm electric guitar, soft melodic bass, restrained drums] [Verse 1 – intimate female vocal] Didn't recognise the number for a second when you called, Then you said my name and suddenly it didn't feel that long. Started with the usual questions, where you live and what you do, Names I haven't heard before in stories that are new. You told me about your new place, said the kitchen's way too small, There's a neighbour with a loud dog and you don't mind it much at all. And somewhere in the middle of a story I half knew, I stopped listening to the words and started listening to you. [Pre-Chorus – gentle emotional build] You sound lighter. You sound settled. Like the years have treated you well. And I'm smiling while I'm hearing it. So why does this hurt like hell? [Chorus – warm melancholic punk vocal] YOU SOUND HAPPY. GOD, YOU REALLY FUCKING DO. AND I MEAN IT WHEN I TELL YOU I'M SO FUCKING GLAD FOR YOU. YOU SOUND HAPPY. LIKE YOU FINALLY FOUND YOUR PLACE. I JUST DIDN'T KNOW HOW MUCH IT'D HURT TO HEAR IT IN YOUR VOICE AGAIN. [Instrumental – gentle melodic guitar] [Verse 2 – vulnerable melodic vocal] You ask how I've been doing. I say, “Good.” And mostly that's the truth. Tell you little bits and pieces, leave out things that won't mean much to you. There's a rhythm to the talking that comes back without a fight, Little jokes that still remember how to land exactly right. For a minute it's familiar. Then you mention someone's name. I don't know who you're talking about. That's when something fucking changed. Not jealousy. Not anger. Just a strange and quiet proof: There's a whole life that has happened since I stopped being close to you. [Chorus – fuller] YOU SOUND HAPPY. AND I'M HAPPY THAT YOU ARE. YOU'VE GOT PEOPLE I DON'T KNOW NOW. YOU'VE GOT STORIES I WASN'T PART OF. YOU SOUND HAPPY. THERE'S NOTHING HERE TO BLAME. WE JUST KEPT ON FUCKING LIVING 'TIL OUR LIVES STOPPED LOOKING THE SAME. [Instrumental Break – expressive melodic guitar, drums gradually building] [Bridge – intimate vocal becoming rougher] Maybe I expected some small empty space I'd left. Some unfinished little sentence. Some old version of regret. That's unfair. I know it is. I never wanted you to wait. Never wanted you less happy just so I could feel replaced. But there's something fucking humbling in discovering you're fine. That the world kept giving things to you after it stopped giving you mine. [Band builds] [Final Verse – raw emotional vocal] Conversation starts to finish. Neither wants to say it first. “We should do this more.” “Definitely.” Both of us know how that works. Still, I'm glad you called me. Glad I got to hear your voice. Glad the life that kept on moving gave you somewhere good to go. And when the line goes quiet, I just sit there for a while. Because I heard you laugh like you used to. And I heard something else besides. You don't need me to be happy. And that's exactly what I wanted. [Voice roughens] Fuck. I wish that didn't hurt. [Final Chorus – huge raw emotional punk vocal] YOU SOUND HAPPY! GOD, YOU REALLY FUCKING DO! AND I'M GLAD THE WORLD GOT BETTER! I'M SO FUCKING GLAD FOR YOU! YOU SOUND HAPPY! AND THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT! I DON'T WANT A SINGLE PIECE OF WHAT YOU FOUND TO EVER FUCKING CHANGE! YOU SOUND HAPPY! THAT'S ALL I EVER WANTED FOR YOU! I JUST DIDN'T KNOW THE WORLD WOULD GET BETTER— [Raw shout-singing] WITHOUT ME NEXT TO YOU! [Instrumental swell] [Outro – quiet melodic vocal] You sound happy. I mean that. That's the fucking problem.
