Life & Death [Verse 1] He counts the cracks along the ceiling like they’re constellations, Maps a sky above his bed from water stains and patience. Backpack by the door, one shoe tied, one undone— Morning smells like yesterday that never met the sun. He pours the milk in careful inches, makes it last all week, Talks to cartoons softly like they’re listening when he speaks. There’s a note stuck to the fridge that just says “Love you, back soon”— But time gets blurry in a house that forgets the afternoon. ⸻ [Pre-Chorus] He learned to whisper hunger, learned to quiet down his fear, Learned that grown-ups disappear Even when they’re right here. ⸻ [Chorus] It’s a quiet house, loud silence in the walls, Every creak a ghost that answers when he calls. He don’t cry—he just listens for a sign, Like footsteps choosing him this time. It’s a lullaby the darkness hums instead, Tucks him in with words she never said. Love shouldn’t feel like holding your own breath— In a quiet house… Loud as death. ⸻ [Verse 2] He draws a picture of a woman with a halo made of gold, Says, “This is my mum before the world got cold.” Teacher asks him gently why her eyes look far away— He shrugs like it’s a language he forgot how to say. There’s a knocking in the pipes that sounds like someone home, So he tiptoes down the hallway, not to wake her from the stone. Curtains never open, light don’t dare to stay— Even sunlight knows when it’s not welcome anyway. ⸻ [Pre-Chorus] He learned to measure footsteps, learned to read the air, Learned that love can still be there But not be anywhere. ⸻ [Chorus] It’s a quiet house, loud silence in the walls, Every shadow stretching taller in the halls. He don’t scream—he just listens for her breath, Like it’s the difference between life and death. It’s a lullaby the darkness hums instead, Tucks him in with dreams he hasn’t dreamt. Love shouldn’t feel like something you outguess— In a quiet house… Loud as death. ⸻ [Bridge] He presses his ear to the bedroom door, Like it’s a seashell keeping score— Waiting for the tide to come back in. “Wake up,” he says, but soft this time, Like saying it wrong would be a crime, Like maybe love is just… not giving in. ⸻ [Final Chorus / Outro] It’s a quiet house—too quiet now to lie, Even silence doesn’t try to disguise. He says, “Mum, I’ve been good, I did everything right…” But goodness doesn’t wake the night. It’s a lullaby that finally lets him stay, Not because it’s safe—but he’ll just wait. Love shouldn’t feel like something you outgrow— “I’m here, Mum… when you wake.” There’s no doubt in his mind. (when you wake… when you wake… when you wake…)
