Intro (soft, clean guitar) The kettle clicked an hour back I let it go cold Somebody's shower through the wall Somebody's up, somebody's fine Verse I The post's still stacked behind the door I've stopped reading the names Phone's been face-down since Saturday Charging on the floor I'm not sad — sad would be something I'm the sound the fridge makes Pre-Chorus (building gently) I keep the curtains at half so noon can pass for eight It took me years to build this quiet one more year to call it home Chorus It isn't the dark outside It's the dark I've grown I watered it each morning Left it half the day Nothing broke the window Nothing found its way — I never lost the light I planted all this shade Verse II (slightly heavier) You left soup on the counter Tuesday I heard you set it down You didn't knock, you didn't ask You just let me hear the sound It's still there. Something's growing on it. I've watched it come along. Pre-Chorus (stronger) I could open one curtain I could answer one call That's the part I can't forgive — it wouldn't cost me much at all Chorus It isn't the dark outside It's the dark I've grown I watered it each morning Left it half the day Nothing broke the window Nothing found its way — I never lost the light I planted all this shade Bridge (slow, fragile) Whatever I grew I know how to cut back Not tonight — not all of it One curtain. One black bag. Final Chorus (massive) It isn't the dark outside It's the dark I've grown Which means it answers to me Which means it's mine to own It won't be gone by morning It took years to grow this shade But every single thing I planted I can dig up again (soft, almost spoken) The kettle's on. I'm waiting for it.
0/500