Lyric

The room is sweating through the walls

My shirt is drying on a chair

A green spiral burns beside the bed

Drawing circles in the air

I leave my bag half-open

Like I might change my mind

Smoke climbs slow

While the ceiling turns

One more hour

Till the road returns

I’m not calm

But I’m almost still

Breathing in the dark

Against my will

Someone coughs beyond the hallway

A scooter wakes below the roof

The mirror keeps a tired face

I haven’t learned to call the truth

The ticket glows on my phone

Too bright for this room

Smoke climbs thin

Past the window bars

Small bugs tap

At the tired stars

I don’t know

What I came here to find

Only that the night

Has loosened its grip

No prayer, no plan

Just heat on my hands

A key with no label

A door that still stands

The world feels rough

But it lets me remain

For one quiet minute

Without asking my name

Smoke climbs slow

And the room turns blue

Something outside

Starts moving through

I rise light

With the dust and the sound

Not quite ready

But no longer bound