[Verse 1] I came home to a room that moved half an inch while I was gone. Everything is where I left it, but nothing sits where it belongs. I touch the walls to make them real. They answer back with something cold. Every door looks almost open. Every silence almost holds. [Pre-Chorus] I keep waiting for the floor to stop shifting underneath me. But every time I find the centre, it moves again. [Chorus] There is no safe note for me to land on. No final word that makes it right. Every answer leans toward another question. Every shadow changes in the light. I keep reaching for resolution, but something always stays undone. There is no safe note. There is no home inside this song. [Verse 2] I learned young how to live beside things I could never make behave. How to smile with one foot hanging over something with no name. You can call it fear. You can call it instinct. I just know what my body knows. Some things never really leave you. They just learn new clothes. [Pre-Chorus] I keep waiting for the tension to become something beautiful. Maybe beauty doesn’t always mean relief. [Chorus] There is no safe note for me to land on. No final word that makes it right. Every answer leans toward another question. Every shadow changes in the light. I keep reaching for resolution, but something always stays undone. There is no safe note. There is no home inside this song. [Bridge] Maybe I was wrong to think everything must settle. Maybe some hearts stay alive because they never do. Maybe peace is not a doorway. Maybe peace is learning how to stand inside a room that tilts, and still remain. [Final Chorus] There is no safe note. So I stopped asking for one. Let the ending hang between us. Let the last word come undone. I don’t need a perfect answer. I don’t need the dark to run. There is no safe note. Still— I sing one.
