The Voice I Learned Best [Intro — whispered, distant] There was a thought before I had the thought. I didn’t notice at first. [Verse 1] I knew which floor would creak before I put my weight against it Turned my head before the sound like I’d already heard it happen I say I’m fine before I’m asked I leave before I feel unwelcome I call it instinct when I can’t remember where I learned it There’s a sentence on my tongue that I swear I didn’t write But it sounds enough like me that I let it pass as mine And maybe that’s the frightening part Maybe nothing feels wrong When the thing that taught you how to disappear has been speaking in your voice all along [Pre-Chorus] So tell me when does instinct become instruction? When does memory become a lie? If my body knows before I do who exactly made the choice this time? [Chorus] I don’t trust the first thought anymore It knows what I’m afraid of before I do Every instinct feels like something I inherited Every answer sounds like somebody I knew And if I tear away everything that made me Would there be anything underneath? What if the voice I call myself is just the voice I learned the best? [Verse 2] I found old fingerprints on thoughts I thought I’d made alone A fear beneath a ha
