[Verse 1] The air hasn’t shifted since you left. Curtains half-closed. Light pressed flat against the wall. Your shadow still fits that corner. Like it never learned how to leave. [Pre-Chorus] Nothing spoils. Nothing cools. It just stays like breath on glass. [Chorus] Room temperature memory. On my skin. In my mouth. I taste it when I breathe. It doesn’t leave. It doesn’t leave. [Verse 2] Your name dimmed in my phone. Not erased. The sheets hold the weight of something that isn’t here. I lie still. The silence leans closer. [Bridge] If I open the door wide enough Will the air finally move? Or will it stay inside my lungs again? [Final Chorus] Room temperature memory. On my skin. In my mouth. I taste it when I breathe. It doesn’t leave. It doesn’t leave. Still here.
