Verse 1 [close vocal, fingerpicked acoustic guitar] There’s a letter by the kettle, Mum turned it face-down again. I know what red ink means by now, I know what happens when. [guitar continues, faint room ambience] There’s enough milk for the morning, if we leave it there tonight. I told my friends I wasn’t hungry, I’m getting good at little lies. [warm bass enters softly] I watch the houses down the street, their windows warm and gold. Kids complaining that their dads call— God, I wish mine bothered at all. Pre-Chorus [acoustic strums widen, soft electric guitar] I know I should be grateful, I know somebody’s got it worse. So every time I want too much, I swallow down the words. [brief drum pickup] Chorus [fuller acoustic strumming, restrained drums] But I’m torn between the life I know and the life I want to find. Between *don’t ask for too much* and wanting everything in sight. [voice opens, warm bass] I learned how not to need much, how to smile and say I’m fine. But there’s a girl inside my bedroom who keeps dreaming past the night. [clean electric guitar swells] Maybe she’s stupid, maybe she’s brave. Maybe wanting something better doesn’t mean I should be ashamed. [instruments pull back] I’m torn. Verse 2 [acoustic guitar forward, drums drop out] Dad came back when I was thirteen, said, “Look how tall you’ve grown.” Bought me fries and a vanilla shake like three years hadn’t gone. [soft kick enters] Said he’d call me Sunday evening. I said, “Sure, okay, that’s fine.” I stopped asking which Sunday after waiting half my life. [bass deepens, subtle synth pad] Mum was sleeping on the sofa, empty glass beside her head. I covered her up with my jacket, then wished I could leave instead. [vocal cracks slightly] And I hated myself for thinking it, so I stayed there on the floor, writing songs about a house where no one cries behind a door. [half-beat silence] Chorus [drums return, guitars widen] And I’m torn between the life I know and the life I want to find. Between *don’t ask for too much* and wanting everything in sight. [stronger vocal, backing harmonies] I learned how not to need much, how to smile and say I’m fine. But there’s a girl inside my bedroom who keeps dreaming past the night. [electric guitar answers vocal] Maybe she’s stupid, maybe she’s brave. Maybe wanting something better doesn’t mean I should be ashamed. [soft echo] I’m torn. Bridge [drums disappear, exposed acoustic guitar] [subtle piano enters, low and distant] What if getting used to hurting doesn’t mean I have to stay? What if what I call deserving is just pain I learned to name? [voice grows, bass returns] [drums build, electric guitar rising] Maybe no one’s coming for me, maybe I have to prove them wrong. Dreams don’t wait for permission— maybe I can build one from this song. [brief silence] Final Chorus [full band hits, acoustic guitar still prominent] So I’m torn between the life I know and the life I’m scared to name. One where Mum gets better, one where Dad decides to stay. [belting begins, drums open up] One where money’s just money, not the reason we say no. One where wanting something beautiful doesn’t feel like wanting too much. [layered backing vocals, electric guitar lift] There’s a girl inside my bedroom singing softly in the dark. She doesn’t know where she is going, she just knows she wants a start. [full belt, slight vocal break] Maybe she’s stupid. Maybe she’s brave. Maybe wanting something better doesn’t mean she has to run away. [band begins falling away] [only guitar and faint piano] Maybe I can still be scared. [almost bare vocal] Maybe I can still be— [soft guitar resonance] torn. Outro [fingerpicked acoustic guitar, intimate again] There’s a letter by the kettle. There’s a song inside my head. I can’t fix the life I’m living. [small breath, final guitar chord] So I’ll sing about a new one instead.
