Lyric

Drawer slides slow

Dust on my hands

I stood by the bed

And did not take

The clock by the sink

The cup on the shelf

All of it waiting

Too late to claim

Nothing feels mine

When the door is open

Nothing feels mine

Once it has passed

Nothing from my room

Nothing from my room

I left it all behind

Too late to call it mine

The page on the desk

The coat on the hook

The crack in the glass

The lamp in the corner

I kept my keys

I kept my name

But the rest stayed there

Like a body in rain

Nothing feels mine

When the door is open

Nothing feels mine

Once it has passed

Nothing from my room

Nothing from my room

I left it all behind

Too late to call it mine

Soft piano falls

Into the dust

One last breath

On the dresser

No hands on the frame

No box, no bag

Only the hush

Of what I used to have

Nothing from my room

Nothing from my room

I left it all behind

Too late to call it mine