[Verse 1] Curtains closed at half past nine. Streetlight bleeding through the blinds. Coffee cold beside the bed. Everything already said. Your coat still hangs behind the door. I stopped asking what it's for. Some things stay because removing them would make the absence real. [Pre-Chorus] Don't turn the light on. I already know what's gone. [Chorus] Rooms without morning. Windows without sky. Rooms without morning. Where the hours go to die. Leave the curtains where they are. Let the darkness keep its shape. Rooms without morning. Nothing here needs to wake. [Verse 2] Hallway clock still loses minutes. Radiator clicks and stops. Every sound inside this flat feels louder after dark. I can hear the neighbours laughing. I can hear the traffic fade. Life keeps happening through the walls. I keep staying the same. [Pre-Chorus] Don't turn the light on. I already know what's gone. [Chorus] Rooms without morning. Windows without sky. Rooms without morning. Where the hours go to die. Leave the curtains where they are. Let the darkness keep its shape. Rooms without morning. Nothing here needs to wake. [Bridge] I used to think that grief was loud. Doors slammed. Voices raised. But mostly grief is quiet rooms where nothing ever changes place. No shattered glass. No final scene. No grand goodbye. Just one more night inside a room that never sees the sky. [Final Chorus] Rooms without morning. Windows without sky. Rooms without morning. Where the hours go to die. Leave the curtains where they are. Let the darkness keep its shape. Rooms without morning. Nothing here needs to wake. Rooms without morning. Still awake. Still the same. Morning never came.
