Empty Rooms

Intro

yeah, ayy, uh

mm-mm, yeah (yeah)

Verse

I count the cracks in ceilings like I'm counting all the times we fell apart, ayy

Left your sweater on my couch, your scent a blueprint of a broken heart, ayy

Phone lights up with nothing — just a missed call and my shallow chest, skrrt

I scroll through old receipts, every date's a sentence I can't let rest, ayy

You said forever like a verb, but verbs decay and tenses change

Now I narrate our ruins in the dark, rehearsal of the pain (of the pain)

Late trains, late plates, late apologies in cheap design

I sip regret like bitter wine and pretend the burn is mine

Empty frames on the mantle keep the corners where your smile used to be

I practice being brave in mirrors that don't recognize me (don't recognize me)

All my maps lead back to you though I keep trying to redraw

Lost the compass when you left — my north is what you took and never gave back, naw

I replay every argument like it's a soundtrack that won't quit

You packed up summer and the rest of us, left frost on my permit

Your laugh's a ghost on my tongue, I stammer through our old refrains

I write your name in margins, then I tear the paper — ink of stains (ink of stains)

Promises like cheap rings, they bend, they break, they disappear

And I'm here counting weather patterns of my lonely atmosphere, ayy

Pre-chorus

Sometimes I hear your footsteps in the hallway of my head (in my head)

Sometimes I say your name to make sure that I'm still real, not dead (not dead)

I know the math, I know the facts, but numbers don't erase the ache

So I keep tracing memories until my palms start to shake (yeah)

Chorus

I call your name into empty rooms, I call your name into empty rooms (I call your name)

I call your name into empty rooms, I call your name into empty rooms (oh-oh)

I light a cigarette to mourn the smoke, inhale the past and cough it out

I call your name into empty rooms, I call your name into empty rooms (yeah)

Verse

City rain hit the windshield, like your tears but colder, hiss and hiss, ayy

Rearview full of could've-beens, I drive fast to outrun the abyss, uh

You left with half my records, took my Sunday and my better jokes

Left me with a calendar of maybes and a stack of unpaid notes

My mother asked if I'm okay, I said "I'm fine" and hung the lie

Laid it in the laundry with the shirts and watched the colors die

Memory's a dealer — sold me moments marked up at full price

Now I pawn the lines we said just to remember how it felt nice (felt nice)

I keep your voice on loop in drafts, pretend a message never sent

Rewind the soft confessions while my present pays the rent

Your name is spelled in headlines on my scars, bold type, underlined

I try to cross it out with coffee but the stain just redesigns

You found a new address and left my weather out to rust

I'm scrolling through old accents of your laugh and losing trust

I promised I'd b