I Think I Left My Life Somewhere

[Verse 1 — intimate deep baritone, delicate clean guitar and wandering bass] The alarm knew when to find me. The ceiling knew my eyes. There was daylight in the curtains doing something with the blinds. My shoes were by the doorway. My jacket knew the chair. Everything was where I left it. I don't remember being there. There's a picture in the hallway. I'm smiling next to you. I remember when we took it. I don't remember being who you were leaning into. [Instrumental — beautiful guitar figure repeats; one measure quietly loses a beat] [Verse 2 — drums enter softly, rhythm subtly displaced] My phone unlocked by looking at the stranger wearing me. There were messages from Tuesday. Apparently, I agreed. There's milk inside the refrigerator I wouldn't ever buy. There's a dent beside the bedroom that you said I made last night. You kissed me in the kitchen. I knew exactly what to do. My mouth remembered loving you. I waited for my heart to too. [Pre-Chorus — low harmony appears almost imperceptibly] Don't ask me if I know you. I know everybody here. That's the part that scares me. Everything is fucking clear. [Chorus — enormous but beautiful melodic explosion] I THINK I LEFT MY LIFE SOMEWHERE. I DON'T REMEMBER WHERE. EVERYBODY SAYS I'M STANDING IN IT. SO WHY AM I NOT THERE? My name still fits inside your mouth. My clothes still fit me too. Everything belongs to me— except the part that knows it's true. [Instrumental — distorted guitars emerge beneath the original clean figure] [Verse 3 — clipped fragments, bass carrying the melody] I drove to work. The car knew how. I missed the turn. It found it anyhow. My hands kept moving. Left, then right. There's something fucking terrifying about muscle memory at night. Someone asked about my weekend. I apparently had fun. I laughed before I understood what laughing I'd begun. There are fingerprints on everything. They match. Of course they do. Whoever's been here living me has gotten very good at being true. [Heavy Turn — irregular low guitar pulse, drums fighting against the meter] [Bridge — calm vocal while the band becomes increasingly unstable] Maybe I misplaced a morning. Maybe morning misplaced me. Maybe there's another bedroom where I woke up differently. Maybe somewhere there's a version wondering where the hell I've been. Maybe he's inside my body. Maybe I'm inside of him. No. That's ridiculous. I know. I know. I know. I— [Instrumental Collapse — violent polyrhythmic section; fragments of the opening guitar melody buried underneath] [Final Chorus — huge soaring vocal, desperation giving way to eerie calm] I THINK I LEFT MY LIFE SOMEWHERE. I DON'T REMEMBER WHERE. EVERYBODY SAYS I'M STANDING IN IT. SO WHY AM I NOT THERE? You held my face between your hands and said I've just been scared. I wanted so badly to believe you. I almost fucking cared. [Music abruptly becomes beautiful again — opening guitar figure, slightly detuned] [Final Section — nearly conversational baritone] Tonight I brushed my teeth. I turned the bathroom light away. I looked up at the mirror. He was waiting there to stay. I raised my hand. He raised his. We stood there face to face. Two people doing everything right in exactly the same place. I smiled. He smiled. I stopped. He stayed. [Long pause] The man inside the mirror finally looked away.