Lyric

I folded the page so neat

And let it breathe in blue

Rain on the window pane

Kept time for me and you

I wrote your name in ink

On a white hotel sheet

Three little lines of truth

And a heart that skipped a beat

I left it by the lamp

Where the dusk could keep it warm

Then walked away so slow

Through the edge of the storm

You passed it on the table

Like it was part of the room

A small white square of silence

Waiting in the gloom

I watched your hand go past it

Like you never saw my sign

And all that could have happened

Stayed folded up in time

You never read my letter

Never read my letter

You never read my letter

And now it's only mine

I gave you every sentence

Gave you my little fire

You never read my letter

So it learned how to be quiet

Now it lives in my drawer

With the ribbon and the key

Next to the broken cup

And the shell from the sea

I know the words still shimmer

When the lamp is low

But paper can't hold a pulse

Once you let it go

Maybe you were just tired

Maybe the night ran deep

Maybe my trembling hands

Were too much to keep

Still I can feel the edges

Pressing through my skin

Like a door I left unlatched

That never closed again

You never read my letter

Never read my letter

You never read my letter

And now it's only mine

I gave you every sentence

Gave you my little fire

You never read my letter

So it learned how to be quiet

If I find it tomorrow

I might not send it back

I might let the moonlight touch

Every line in the black

Or I may burn the corner

And watch the smoke rise slow

Some things are only sacred

When nobody can know

You never read my letter

Never read my letter

You never read my letter

And now it's only mine

I gave you every sentence

Gave you my little fire

You never read my letter

So it learned how to be quiet

Rain on the window pane

Kept time for me and you

And the page stayed folded

In all the things we knew