Verse 1

Verse 1 The house still breathes in your rhythm Pipes hum soft like a distant score Coffee rings, a fallen kingdom, Keys asleep beside the door The curtains sway in quiet dialogue Light spills blue, then disappears I press my ear against the drywall As if it keeps what I can’t hear Pre-Chorus You said it was just weather changing Nothing more than passing rain But storms don’t take the walls with them They leave you learning how to name the pain Chorus And now I’m standing on the Atlantic Watching something slowly sink I won’t say what it was we lost I only know I couldn’t swim There’s a silence shaped like your hands Wrapped around my oxygen If love is just a thin red line I’m walking it without a net Verse 2 We used to talk in silver screens Black-and-white and Casablanca smoke You always hated happy endings Said they felt like private jokes Your voice could turn a room to summer Even in eternal sunshine cold Now every hallway looks much longer Every story feels half-told I keep the ticket stubs in drawers A midnight train, a broken crown Something about a king returning Something about not coming back around Pre-Chorus You said, “Don’t turn this into tragedy, It’s only how the script was set.” But I’ve read enough between the lines To know what hasn’t happened yet. Chorus And now I’m standing on the Atlantic Watching something slowly sink I won’t say what it was we lost I only know I couldn’t swim There’s a silence shaped like your hands Wrapped around my oxygen If love is just a thin red line I’m walking it without a net Bridge (quieter, almost whispered) There’s a staircase in my chest Leading somewhere I can’t go Every step sounds like November Every breath like letting go You said, “I’ll see you in another life,” Like it was just a change of scene But I am not that good at dying And you are not that easy to leave I still set a place at midnight Still hear you say, “As you wish.” But wishes don’t rewrite the ending And oceans don’t return what they keep. Final Chorus (more fragile, not louder) I’m still standing on the Atlantic Pretending ships don’t disappear I won’t say whether you left me Or whether you were taken from here There’s a silence shaped like your hands Where my pulse used to begin If this is just a kind of heartbreak Why does it feel like oxygen thinning? Outro The house still breathes in your rhythm. Or maybe it’s only mine. Either way, the tide is rising. Either way, I’m running out of time.