[Intro: close low melody; bass and one dry clap] Your usual? One future on repeat. Sugar for the certainty. A chair. Come take a seat. [Verse 1: motorik bass; clipped guitar; smiling melodic baritone] The map eats first; I draw your absence through the middle of the hall. Come empty-handed. Leave your key here. I will keep it safe, that's all. I fixed your door to catch behind you, soft teeth hidden in the frame. Now the house voice says you're leaving. It has practiced with your name. A web across the simplest question; I stop listening halfway through. Force-fed tomorrow over breakfast, aftertaste of losing you. [Pre-Chorus: rising sung line; drums narrow to kick and clap] “Leave me a little unknown.” I hear a warning in the plea. The quiet order turns the lock. You get quieter with me. [Chorus: wide catchy melody; close unison answers] One-way prophet, such a lovely thing to know. I told you so. I told you where to go. One-way prophet, I can make the ending fit: cut away the room for staying, call your leaving proof of it. [Verse 2: bass stays steady; guitar answers between phrases] Your boots are waiting by the doorway. You wore them here to mend the fence. I watch the toes instead of listening; every scuff is evidence. Your shirt still hangs beside the kettle. I fold it in a paper bag. You ask if we can talk this evening. I say, “Don't bother coming back.” My second mouth rehearses silence as the speech you never gave. I tare away the nights you stayed here. Who holds the scale? My thumb comes down. Special thanks: your final footstep. Spoiled: the photograph of spring. Somebody has to move, I whisper, in the room I'm emptying. [Chorus: same inviting melody; brighter doubles, cold percussion] One-way prophet, such a lovely thing to know. I told you so. I told you where to go. One-way prophet, I can make the ending fit: cut away the room for staying, call your leaving proof of it. [Bridge: groove drops to bass; intimate sustained singing] For you and only you, I promised. YOU ARE HERE beside the bell. Our north keeps changing hands; I make the arrow point away. What we made can bite. A strip of your old sleeve wipes a circle on the window. There's a street I couldn't see. [Final Chorus: full groove; lead breaks the expected last phrase] One-way prophet, such a lovely thing to know. I told you so. I told you where to go. One-way prophet, I can make the ending fit: cut away the room for staying— [Break: one missing downbeat; no vocal] [Outro: open guitar voicings; bass loosens; low unguarded melody] One little yes: I put the key outside. I don't know who will use it. There's a chair on either side.
