Song Cover Image

Sea the Mourning

V5.5

Verse 1 My voice, under floorboards, Where quiet things belong. I made myself smaller, Until no one knew I was gone. Dust where my heart answered, Rot where roses hung. Every breath feels borrowed, From a life I never won. Pre-Chorus Don’t ask where I’ve been. Buried in my skin. Wearing a face I didn’t choose, Losing wars I couldn’t lose. Chorus I don’t want the morning, I don’t want the sun. Don’t want another day Of pretending I’m someone. If heaven has a doorway, If grief can come undone, God forgive the thought in me, I’d rather be with my son. Verse 2 I fold myself in corners, Like a letter never sent. All the love inside me Had nowhere safe it went. They say time makes it softer, But time just learns your name. Sits beside your pillow, Teaches you the shape of pain. Pre-Chorus I don’t scream, don’t fight. Just disappear politely. Smile when they look at me, Die where they can’t see. Chorus I don’t want the morning, I don’t want the sun. Don’t want another day Of pretending I’m someone. If heaven has a doorway, If grief can come undone, God forgive the thought in me, I’d rather be with my son. Bridge A crib in my memory, Silence in my arms. A grave inside my body, Where I keep what I can’t mourn. I was supposed to be his shelter, Supposed to be his home. Now I’m just a haunted house, That learned to stand alone. Breakdown I hate the mirror, I hate my name. Hate the blood inside my veins. Hate they call it strength, When I’ve only learned to ache. I hide my hands, I hide my face. Hide from every gentle place. Kindness feels like knives, When you weren’t made to stay alive. Final Chorus I don’t want the morning, I don’t want the sun. Don’t want another year Of being this undone. If love is waiting somewhere, Past the reach of everyone, Then let the dark be honest, I’d rather be with my son. Outro No one knows the weight I carry, No one hears the lullaby. I was empty long before I said, I’m tired of being alive. So I close my eyes and hold him, In the only place he comes. In the ruin of a mother, Who’d rather be with her son.