I Say Your Name

Intro

mm-mm, yeah, ooh

soft clap, low hum (ah)

Verse

I still keep your sweater in the back of my chair, yeah

faded letters in my pocket like a lighthouse that ain't there, uh

tried to build a home from your last-minute apologies

but the roof kept folding under all those cold inquiries

you left your coffee ring like a map I can't decode

every street we walked is a song with a broken road

I replay the small things — the stupid, tender fights

how you laughed at my bad jokes, how we stayed up all night

I count the empty frames, the photos turned to dust

paper towns we promised, promises we couldn't trust

you said forever like it was easy, like the weather

now it's winter on my windows, and I'm learning how to tether

my peace to passing cars, to late alarms, to neon signs that lie

I hold your name like contraband, I hide it from my mind

but love's a stubborn language and I speak it anyway

(mmm) I whisper to the dark, like maybe you'll stay

truth is, I keep walking circles in rooms we used to own

tracing the places where your footprints used to be known

yeah, I keep the light low, let the memories breathe

sip slow on regret, swallow everything you leave

Pre-chorus

I tried to outrun the silence, but it kept my pace (it kept my pace)

tried to burn the pictures, but they change the flame to ash (to ash)

now I taste your goodbye every time I reach for sleep

and the bed's a better liar than the promises we keep (we keep)

Chorus

I say your name like I'm calling from a bridge (callin', callin')

I say your name like I'm wishing it would stick (wishin', wishin')

I say your name and the echo knows my sins

I say your name and it comes back again

I say your name like I'm calling from a bridge (callin', callin')

I say your name like I'm wishing it would stick (wishin', wishin')

I say your name and the echo knows my sins

I say your name and it comes back again (comes back, comes back)

Verse

You left a playlist on repeat, same three songs, same two lies

I memorize the chorus like a prayer that never tries

to fix the cracked foundation of the future that we planned

your handwriting on the fridge, a map I can't demand

I find your lipstick on my cup, the ghost of your parade

every corner of the house rehearses what you made

I keep the blinds half open so the morning can't pretend

that everything's been healed — some things just don't mend

I write bad poetry on receipts, fold 'em into darts

shootin' through my ceiling, aiming at your heart

but the darts fall soft, the letters curl in shame

I'm an amateur at closure, you a master at the game

you learned how to apologize with the economy of touch

cheap and sentimental, never meaning much

I remember how you promised: 'baby, don't be scared'

then left a calendar of emptiness in the space we shared

now I sip cold regrets and I toast to what I knew

raise my cup to the silence, to the outline of you

[pre-c