[Verse 1] I wake to a ceiling that already knows my name. The kettle clicks like a watch with no hands to show me the time. My phone blooms with ghosts of invites I don't have the grace to refuse. I move through the house like a tab left open, a glitch in my own machine. [Pre-Chorus] I rehearse "I'm fine" until the words are a smudge on the glass. My heart beats against my ribs like it's demanding a refund. I search for my hunger, but the drawer has been locked from the inside. Even the music I loved is a party in someone else's headphones. [Chorus] I am a room with the lights on and no one home. Loneliness hangs the curtains and calls the silence its own. Anxiety checks the locks and invoices me for every breath. And pleasure is a key I misplaced in the pockets of yesterday. [Verse 2] My shadow arrives, already dressed in the armor of the day. It drills the worst-case scenario until my voice is a cautious whisper. I catalog every duty and file the list under "impossible." My laugh is an echo I abandoned in another apartment, in another life. [Pre-Chorus 2] I tell myself "tomorrow" like it's a town with better weather. Hope has a ticket number, but they never seem to get to mine. The morning peels me from the sheets in slow, reluctant strips. I make promises in pencil and wake to find them erased by the night. [Chorus] Still, I'm a room with the lights on and no one home. Loneliness sits like furniture that refuses to be moved. Anxiety keeps all the receipts and forges them in my name. And pleasure is a language I spoke once, now it’s foreign and polite. [Bridge] The doctors hand me maps that just say "try this" and "wait." They talk in percentages while I measure my life in the cracks on the wall. I press my face to the glass of my future and my own breath fogs the view. If I smile, it's a costume, An audition for the person I’m supposed to be. [Instrumental Break] [Outro] Tonight, I'll breathe in like it's permission, and out like it's enough. I'll stop counting the losses, because the score doesn't matter anymore. Maybe this room with the lights on is the only mercy I can afford. I'll leave the door unlocked tonight, just in case I am trying to come home.
