[Intro] (Floorboards creak.) Old Man: "I've been expecting you." [Verse 1] He never looked surprised, just pointed to a chair. Like he'd seen me a hundred times standing there. Dust on the windows, silence on the wall. Felt like the house had been waiting through it all. I asked, "Who called me?" He smiled instead. Said, "Some questions grow before they're ever fed." He poured black coffee, slid it to my side. Like he already knew I wouldn't touch mine. Every answer I wanted drifted out of reach. Every sentence sounded deeper than speech. He kept saying, "Patience," like time wasn't real. But time's all I had... and I needed to heal. Then he leaned in close with a look so strange... Said, "You don't even know what they've taken." [Hook] Tell me the truth, don't leave me in the dark. Every clue just leaves another mark. If you know my story, why won't you explain? Why do I feel something every time you say my name? [Verse 2] He reached for a box underneath the floor. Pulled out a letter that looked years old. The paper was worn, edges torn by time. Still it felt familiar in these hands of mine. I asked, "Who's it for?" He said, "You'll see." Then looked me in the eyes like he was testing me. He spoke one name... quiet... clear... And somehow it echoed louder in my ears. My heart skipped once, then twice, then stopped. Like that one word unlocked a hidden lock. I said, "How... do you know that name?" He looked confused... then smiled again. "You never asked whose name it was..." "So why did you answer like it belonged to you?" [Hook] Tell me the truth, don't leave me in the dark. Every clue just leaves another mark. If you know my story, why won't you explain? Why do I feel something every time you say that name? [Outro] Old Man: "Go home..." "...and look in the mirror."
