[Verse 1 – slow, suspended] A car slows down outside the house. I turn before I know I've turned. Someone calls a name across the street. Not yours. Still— my whole body heard it. The day you disappeared I followed. One corner. Then another. I thought somewhere there had to be an answer that led back to you. [Chorus – moderate, flowing] Every corner looks like maybe. Every maybe makes me run. Every time I think I've found you, I find another wall. And I have to lose you again. I don't know where waiting ends. [Verse 2 – quicker, restless] A voice rises somewhere beyond me. For one second it sounds like you. [brief drop] I hate how much that hurts. [tempo pushes forward] People make plans. People leave. Someone laughs like nothing happened. I don't hate the world for moving. I hate that I can hear it move. [abrupt slowdown] Then headlights slow outside. Same height. Same coat. The whole world stops. The stranger clears their throat and keeps walking. [silence] There you go. Leaving me again. [Chorus – faster, urgent] Every corner looks like maybe. Every maybe makes me run. Every time I think I've found you, I find another wall. Again. Again. How many times can someone disappear from the same life? [Bridge – quick, clipped] The phone—maybe. A face through glass—maybe. Footsteps behind me—maybe. [overlapping] Maybe... maybe... [sudden slowdown] They don't ask like they used to. I've learned to help them. "I'm okay." "I'm getting there." I say the words that let them leave. Because how do I tell them I still look? How do I tell them some days I feel guilty when I don't? I laughed yesterday and hated myself before the sound was gone. [accelerating] Every dead end starts with daylight. You see it. You run. You think— this time. This— [hard stop] wall. [Verse 3 – measured] I don't know what to hope for anymore. That you're alive? That you're safe? That somebody somewhere still knows your name? I'm ashamed of wanting an answer when I know what some answers mean. Ashamed of believing. Ashamed when I stop. There is no clean way to love you from here. [Final Chorus – flowing, exhausted] Every corner still looks like maybe. That's how this place keeps me. A little light. A little hope. Enough to make me turn. Another wall. Another almost. Another version of losing you. And somewhere life keeps going. [Outro – very slow, exposed] The walls look different now. Or maybe I do. I still look up when cars slow down. I've lived inside maybe longer than I knew you. [long silence] Something moves beyond the wall. My heart rises before I can stop it. I turn. [barely voiced] Please. [long pause] Maybe.
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