[Intro: soft rain, vinyl crackle, muted electric piano] Your hoodie’s still here. Guess I am too. [Verse 1: intimate conversational rap] It’s hanging off my shoulders Like you never really left Sleeves covering my fingers Your old perfume in the thread I told myself it’s just a sweater Nothing sacred, nothing deep But I wear it when the room gets cold And when I cannot sleep There’s a coffee stain beside the pocket From that night we missed the train You laughed and said it gave it character Now it only holds the pain I should wash it Should fold it Put it somewhere out of sight But the smell gets a little weaker Every time I try [Pre-Chorus: melodic lift] And I know fabric isn’t memory I know cotton cannot care But it still feels like your arms When nobody else is there [Chorus: smooth emotional R&B hook] I’m still sleeping in your borrowed hoodie Like you might come back and ask for it someday Still pulling the sleeves across my hands Like they could hold the loneliness away It doesn’t fit me But neither did goodbye So I wear what you left behind I’m still sleeping in your borrowed hoodie Pretending it’s just something that I like [Post-Chorus: layered vocals] Just something that I like Just something that I— No, that’s a lie [Verse 2: tighter melodic rap] My friends keep asking why I keep it I say, “It’s warm, that’s all” Like I didn’t wear it through the summer With the air conditioner off Like I don’t check the pocket sometimes For a note I know won’t be Like I don’t hear your voice say, “Keep it” Every time it covers me You were always leaving pieces Hair ties, chargers, little things But this one feels like evidence Of everything we used to be And I hate how something ordinary Can undo me in a breath How a faded zipper holds more weight Than every word you never said [Pre-Chorus 2] I know I should return it But I don’t know where you are And maybe that’s the real excuse For keeping you this far [Chorus] I’m still sleeping in your borrowed hoodie Like you might come back and ask for it someday Still pulling the sleeves across my hands Like they could hold the loneliness away It doesn’t fit me But neither did goodbye So I wear what you left behind I’m still sleeping in your borrowed hoodie Pretending it’s just something that I like [Verse 3: beat strips back] I don’t miss the fighting I don’t miss the way we broke I miss the quiet after midnight When you knew I needed close I miss stealing all your clothing While you swore that I looked small I miss knowing where you’d be When I heard footsteps in the hall And maybe I don’t want you back Maybe I just miss that life Maybe grief can wear a familiar shape Without asking to rewind I’m not waiting by the doorway I’m not checking for your car But I still sleep inside the outline Of somebody who moved on [Bridge: soft sung vocal, minimal instrumentation] One day it won’t smell like you One day that won’t make me cry One day I’ll wash the memory out And leave it there to dry One day it’ll just be clothing No heartbeat in the seams But tonight I need the comfort Even knowing what it means [Final Chorus: fuller production, emotional lift] I’m still sleeping in your borrowed hoodie But I know you’re not coming back for it someday Still pulling the sleeves across my hands But they can’t keep every memory away It doesn’t fit me And neither did goodbye But I’m learning how to survive I’m still sleeping in your borrowed hoodie Not because I think you’re mine Just because healing takes its time [Outro: rain easing, piano fading] Your hoodie’s still here. The smell is almost gone. I think I’ll wash it in the morning. Not tonight.
