Empty Seat

Empty Seat The table’s set, the silver’s bright The sun is bleeding morning light I bought the bread you like the most And made some tea and buttered toast The kettle whistles, high and thin To let the hollow silence in. And I’m fine, yeah I’m perfectly okay Just living in the "yesterday" of today. But there’s an empty seat at the edge of the frame A wooden ghost that doesn’t know its name The fabric’s worn where you used to lean The loudest silence I’ve ever seen I’m playing house in a hollow shell Doing "normal" surprisingly well But the room is heavy, the air is sweet With the bitter weight of that empty seat. I haven’t moved the mail or changed the view I’m curated, acting just like you Would want me to—composed and cold While the edges of my spirit start to fold It’s not the "goodbye" that cuts so deep It’s the "hello" to the ghost I keep. Ooh, the space is wider... The world keeps spinning, indifferent and fast While I build a museum out of things that couldn’t last Nothing has changed, but the change is everything I’m frozen in the fall, while I’m humming the spring. There’s an empty seat at the edge of the frame A wooden ghost that doesn’t know its name The fabric’s worn where you used to lean The loudest silence I’ve ever seen I’m playing house in a hollow shell Doing "normal" surprisingly well But the room is heavy, the air is sweet With the bitter weight of that empty seat. The tea goes cold The story’s told Everything’s the same, I repeat, I repeat... Except for the echo In that empty seat.