⊱ ✧✦✧ ═══ ✧✦✧ ⊰ ✦ ⊱ ✧✦✧ ══════ ✧✦✧ ⊰ ✦ ⊱ ✧✦✧ ═══ ✧✦✧ ⊰ 🎶 We are the **StorytellerZ** – the German hub for Suno artists. 🎶 Come join us, connect and become part of our creative hive: 👉 https://discord.gg/storytellerz ⊱ ✧✦✧ ═══ ✧✦✧ ⊰ ✦ ⊱ ✧✦✧ ══════ ✧✦✧ ⊰ ✦ ⊱ ✧✦✧ ═══ ✧✦✧ ⊰ Lyrics by @Mondoshiwa © COPYRIGHT, 2026 @Mondoshiwa, All rights reserved STTZ-CB3D5024305C8272D4A48543 ⊱ ✧✦✧ ═══ ✧✦✧ ⊰ ✦ ⊱ ✧✦✧ ══════ ✧✦✧ ⊰ ✦ ⊱ ✧✦✧ ═══ ✧✦✧ ⊰ Leave the chair. Square with the table. The cup stays on the saucer. The spoon points left. Nothing has happened if those four things agree. [Verse 1] On school paper I drew a house: four panes, one chimney, five plates, steam above the soup. Nobody shouting. Nobody testing the latch. Nobody learning which floorboard gives them away. I thought decency came with hot water. A clean towel. A full cupboard. A voice that did not sharpen when it reached me. [Build] Now the radiator knocks in groups of three. Upstairs, a cupboard answers. Someone drags a bin bag through the hall. Something inside it taps back. Once. Twice. No - that was three. [Chorus] Leave the chair where I put it. Leave the cup with its ring. Let the latch give one clean click. Let the pipes stop arguing. I asked for soup, a mattress, soap that did not smell of rust. Nothing grand. Nothing sacred. Why was even that too much? [Verse 2] Grease on the stair rail. Spit on the lift button. A siren saws the block in half. A bottle bursts. A jaw meets paving. Someone films it vertically. Someone complains about the framing. Black grit climbs from the drain. I scrub until the knuckles split. The smell stays. It has tenancy. [Interruption] Was there a vote? Did I miss it? Who signed the form that made threat part of the rent? Who approved the fists through plaster? Children count the evening from impact to impact, to impact. Nobody asks what they learned. [Chorus] Leave the chair where I put it. Leave the cup with its ring. Let the latch give one clean click. Let the pipes stop arguing. I asked for soup, a mattress, soap that did not smell of rust. Now the latch moves when nobody touches it. Half an inch. Then stops. [Breakdown] Don’t touch me. Stand there. No - closer. Not that close. I am afraid of the next knock. I am afraid there will be none. Afraid to wake. Afraid not to. There. Scrape that sentence off the tile. No. Leave it. Let somebody step in it. [Final Section] Who made hunger a department? Who trained fists to negotiate? Who sells rest by the square metre? Who invoices the lock? I did no damage. I rinsed the bowl. I stacked the plate. I kept my shoes beside the mat. I wanted soup. A mattress. One person who did not flinch. Was that obscene? Was that too much? [Chorus] Leave the chair where I put it. Leave the cup with its ring. Let the latch give one clean click. Let the pipes stop arguing. No anthem. No rescue. No grand design. Just one object remaining where I left it. [Post-Chorus] The chair is square. The spoon points left. The latch is set. The latch moved back. Half an inch... half an inch.
