歌詞

The snare came in like footsteps

Before I found my shoes

A kettle clicked at seven

Like it had nothing left to prove

The washer filled with water

Before I reached the stairs

Your cup was by the window

Mine was no longer there

The curtains opened earlier

Than they did when I was young

The radio spoke to breakfast

In a voice I did not know

The House Knew the New Routine

Better than it knew my hands

Every hinge had learned the timing

Of a life I did not plan

No one had to tell me

No one had to say

The room had kept a rhythm

That did not need my name

I heard the floorboards answer

To someone else’s day

The sink turned on before me

The chairs were tucked away

I was not pushed outside it

I was not asked to leave

I only stood there listening

To what the house had learned without me

You folded towels at noon now

Bills opened after tea

The medicine stayed near the sugar

Where my school notes used to be

A calendar beside the phone

Held names I could not place

The dog next door stopped barking

At the sound of my old gate

Nothing had been taken

Nothing looked unkind

But every little order

Had grown around my absence

I heard the cupboards closing

In a sequence I had missed

The pan set down, the window latched

The table cleared by six

I knew the walls and corners

I knew the narrow hall

But knowing where things used to be

Was not the same as knowing them at all

I wanted to be useful

So I reached for plates too soon

You said the small ones go there now

And pointed across the room

I laughed like it was nothing

Then kept my fingers still

A family can adjust itself

Without meaning that it will

I heard the house continue

With my coat beside the door

The morning made its small demands

Across the kitchen floor

I was not erased there

I was not refused

I had simply missed the hours

That taught the place to move