What’s Left on the Page

[Intro] Morning comes in sideways light, Coffee goes cold, I forget to mind. [Verse 1] Fifty-five candles, most of ’em burned, Ink-stained fingers, still never learned How to stop loving what’s already gone. Your sweater hangs on the back of the door, Smells like rain and a bookstore floor, Like Sunday afternoons we thought were long. [Pre-Chorus] I used to write you into every line, Now the lines just stare back at mine. [Chorus] What’s the meaning now, when the muse won’t stay, When the best part of me walked away? I feed the dogs, I call my mom, Keep the house from falling wrong. But when the night leans in and says my name, What’s left on the page? [Verse 2] Mama needs pills at half past nine, Same old stories, different times. She asks about you like you’re late. Two old dogs with silvered faces, They still wait by the gate some days, Like love’s just running behind again. [Pre-Chorus] I nod, I smile, I play along, I’ve gotten real good at being strong. [Chorus] What’s the meaning now, when the room feels wide, When every joke just kinda dies? I walk the block, I count the cracks, Try not to want the years back. But when the silence starts to ache, What’s left to take? [Instrumental] Acoustic guitar, soft and worn. [Verse 3] Twenty-some years in a blink and a bruise, We built a world out of words and truth. I was better when you believed. Now the mirror don’t argue much, Just shrugs at me like, “Do what you must,” Man, that’s a heavy kind of free. [Bridge] Maybe the meaning’s small and plain, Like keeping warm when it rains. Maybe it’s love that doesn’t quit, Even when it don’t make sense of it. [Double Chorus] What’s the meaning now? Maybe it’s this— Staying when leaving would hurt less. Holding the line, walking it slow, Writing you into what I don’t know. If I’m still here, if I still feel, Maybe that’s something real. [Outro] I’ll write tomorrow, I always do, Leave a chair empty, just in case it’s you. The page ain’t full, but it ain’t blank… Not yet.