We walked through the house Notebook in hand Listing what’s broken Before it’s back on the market But with every room I felt the shift I wasn’t just fixing I was guiding a ghost tour We started in the kitchen Where the first break began He told me he loved Someone else, just like that I shattered in silence Told him to go He packed up his guilt And walked out the door This ain’t just a house It’s a museum Of sorrow and dust Of all I believed in Each room holds a crack I tried to repair But I walk these halls I’m still living here He came back months later Tears and regret Sat on the couch Said he’d never forget I wanted to believe him So I did But years passed And he did it again In that same room Where promises died He said he loved her And had — for some time This ain’t just a house It’s a museum Of second chances And final endings Each wall holds a secret Each floor has a scar But I walk these halls Like I know who we are In the sunroom last summer I tried to sort through the mess He sat in the silence While I carried the rest We told the kids In the TV room He spoke like a script I just sat in the gloom The bedroom still holds me But it’s not for sleep It’s the tomb of the love That we couldn’t keep I changed the sheets Repainted the walls But the bed remembers Every single fall This ain’t just a house It’s a museum I’m the guide And the only exhibit The cracks never healed But I never fell I walk these halls And I wear them well I’ll hand over the keys But the story won’t fade This house holds my heart In every display
