[Global Vocal Rule: Every vocal sound must contain clearly intelligible written lyrics. Backing vocals may repeat exact English or Korean lyric phrases only. No humming, wordless syllables, sighs, or non-lyrical transitions.] [Reflex - low close vocal over tense piano and a slow sub-bass pulse] My mind knows you are gone. My feet still shift To leave you room. My hand still reaches Toward the place Where I once reached for you. I understand the ending. My body missed the news. [Habit One - clipped drums and restrained guitar enter] I turn when something crosses The edge of my sight. I wake and listen automatically In the middle of the night. I still move carefully Past the place you used to sleep. I remember not to wake you Before remembering There is no need. People think grief lives in crying, In photographs and anniversaries. Mine lives lower. In the ordinary. In the muscle memory. [Main Chorus - deep bass beneath the first line, Korean responses layered clearly] My mind knows you’re gone. My hands still make room. Grief lives in the muscle memory Long after losing you. 생각은 널 놓았는데 내 몸은 아직 기다려. I stopped waiting in my thoughts, But my body never did. [Translation: My thoughts let you go, but my body is still waiting.] [Habit Two - rhythm becomes quicker and more restless] I still glance toward the doorway When the floorboards make a sound. Still expect a familiar presence Every time I turn around. I reach down without thinking When my hands have nowhere to be. Then the movement finishes In an empty space Beside me. No one sees the half a second When the past becomes today. The body moves before the mind Can pull the hope away. It is not that I believe You might come walking through. It is only that my muscles Have not learned a world Without you. [Pulse Lift - piano rises, low harmonies repeat exact phrases] How long does a habit last When love is what taught it? How long does the body ask For someone it has lost? I know there is no answer. I still turn. I still pause. [Second Chorus - firmer delivery, richer but restrained harmony] My mind knows you’re gone. My hands still make room. Grief lives in the muscle memory Long after losing you. 머리는 다 알고 있는데 마음보다 몸이 더 느려. I stopped waiting in my thoughts, But my body never did. [Translation: My head understands everything, but the body is slower than the heart.] [Repetition Break - bass, dry percussion, and cello only] Reach. Stop. Turn. Remember. Wait. Nothing. Breathe. Continue. Reach. Stop. Turn. Remember. Every small motion Brings the ending back again. [What the Body Kept - natural vocal becomes more exposed] Maybe this is how love lingers When there is nowhere left to go. Not as something supernatural. Not a sign I should not let you go. Just a thousand quiet movements Built from days when you were here. A body trained by tenderness Still following the pattern After losing what was near. I do not have to hate the habit. I do not have to make it leave. Maybe missing you is something My hands will slowly Learn to grieve. [Korean Turn - muted piano, low cello, minimal drums] 아직도 자리를 비워 둬. 아직도 소리에 돌아봐. 없는 걸 알고 있으면서 내 몸은 널 기억하나 봐. I still leave the space beside me. I still turn toward every sound. My body remembers loving you Even when you are not around. [Translation: I still leave your place open. I still turn at sounds. Even knowing you are gone, my body seems to remember you.] [Final Chorus - strongest natural lead, harmony builds through emotion rather than volume] My mind knows you’re gone. My hands still make room. Grief lives in the muscle memory Long after losing you. I stopped waiting in my thoughts. My body is learning to. One less turn toward the doorway. One less pause inside the room. Not forgetting. Not replacing. Just teaching every part of me What my mind already knew. My mind knows you are gone. Someday, My hands will too. [Last Reflex - piano, cello, and one final low bass pulse] Tonight, I reached Toward the empty space. Then stopped. Not because I loved you less. Because for one moment, My body remembered What my mind has learned.
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