There’s an echo in the room, and
it isn’t yours
it isn’t yours
no, it isn’t yours.
It’s hidden,
in silence,
beneath the walls i thought
we'd paint the color of your lips
the first night we kissed;
it’s somewhere
somewhere
beneath the couch we used to share
on cold nights
and lazy mornings;
it’s somewhere
somewhere
near the fireplace
that warmed my heart
and yours:
the same heart that held
my love
my love…but
my love no longer echoes
in your heart.
No,
it's somewhere
somewhere
in my room,
lost,
empty—
bouncing off blank walls
and cathedral ceilings,
praying for a way out
but finding no answers
no answers
no, not one answer.
There’s an echo in my room, and
it isn’t yours
it isn’t yours
no, it isn’t yours.
