[Intro - soft hook fragment] Rough draft. Don't print that yet. [Verse 1] Each new day is a rough draft waiting, Alarm needs a battery, I've been delaying. Clock still right twice, don't give it a medal; I got more to do than argue with the second hand. Leaves in a bag, bag turns to mulch, Something small growing where the boots went crunch. Tumbleweed caught underneath a speeding car, Still drops seeds where it breaks apart. I'm not making pain sound necessary; I'd have taken better if it came available. Just saying something got through the damage, Something I can use without calling it magic. [Hook - warm melody] Don't print that yet. Don't call that me. I got a little room left Between what happened and what I mean. Rough draft, folded back, Crossed-out line still under that. Don't print that yet. I'm not final. [Verse 2] Used to write forever underneath a bad day, Woke up with the same word needing an update. I can own a wrong without becoming the wrong; Can put the glass down without giving a song. No clean montage, no new man by Monday, Some days making lunch is the whole damn runway. Take a short walk, let the weather say something, Don't need every silence to be full of an answer. Thought I'd have a house by the end of the chapter, Chapter got long. I'm still writing after. Leave a blank page where I thought it would end; Room for a name I ain't learned to be yet. [Hook] Don't print that yet. Don't call that me. I got a little room left Between what happened and what I mean. Rough draft, folded back, Crossed-out line still under that. Don't print that yet. I'm not final. [Bridge - kalimba and voice] Some mistakes I can't revise. Some people won't come back. I can leave that on the page And still write after that. [Final Hook] Don't print that yet. Don't call that me. Leave a little room left. Leave a little room for me. Rough draft. I'm not final. [End]
