Lyric

My shoes are lying by the door

I turn the kitchen light on low

Your last words were, "Text when you're home"

I start with that and add a line

The sentence fits above my thumb

I read it like it's someone else's

It's only asking when you're free

So why am I still standing here?

I add a smile, then take it out

I almost settle for "good night"

But that would leave the part unsaid

I've carried home the whole way back

Send it, my thumb is on the screen

“Made it home. When can I see you?”

Send it, before I lose my nerve

I wonder if you're typing too

I put some water on to boil

The phone goes dark against my palm

I wake the screen and read the words

They haven't changed in all this time

I add "sometime" at the end

As if I didn't mean next week

Then take it out and leave the question

Exactly how it came to me

No one's here to watch me hesitate

The kettle clicks; I leave it there

I want to know when I can see you

I don't need softer words than that

Send it, my thumb is on the screen

“Made it home. When can I see you?”

Send it, before I lose my nerve

I wonder if you're typing too

The tea bag waits beside the cup

I haven't even poured the water

This doesn't need another version

Or one more minute in my hand

Send it, my thumb is on the screen

“Made it home. When can I see you?”

Send it, before I lose my nerve

I wonder if you're typing too

I press the arrow with my thumb

The words move up into our chat

I let them stay the way I meant them

I set the phone beside the cup

I pour the water while it's hot

And let the message be enough