I'd trade a year of sleep for one hour back You're still beneath my tongue A grin I didn't carve is watching from the black The rooms keep your shape when I'm gone Something hums where it should bleed Every thought I have runs into every other thought I want two suns at once The one that sank with us, the one still hanging there Say something Even the wrong thing I'm sealed inside this specific dark You don't answer but I still wait for it I wire myself to morning I watch you move across the ceiling in the dark I run the checks I show the numbers I look fine I just can't let this reach you You were the only bet I trusted on myself The fit that only happens once if you're lucky If peace won't find you where you've gone I'd turn the earth by hand to bring it to you Say something Anything I'm peeling out of who I thought I was You don't answer but I still leave room for it Do you still feel it when the light goes gold? You fell asleep against me before the daylight left I still see the branches Your weight against my shoulder Leaves that wouldn't go You moved on I felt the ground shift under me The tree came down and I was standing somewhere new I didn't ask to grow But something's pushing through I still feel your hands I still hear the way you said it (I'm not the same I'm not the same) Everything you broke is opening Everything I buried is opening Say something One more time I'm learning how to be the one who carries on Say something Then let it fade I finally hear my own name where yours once stayed You don't answer and I don't need you to Even the cleanest white goes dark in grief like this You were the god I built my wanting to I know every inch of you I still leave the porch light on one more night just one more night
