[Intro — fingerpicked acoustic guitar and soft felt piano; no strings] [Woman, spoken, gentle question] How’ve you been? [Man, spoken, automatic answer; stops himself] Good— [Brief pause; guitar continues] [Male lead vocal, close-mic, conversational] I start to say it like I always do, then hear how it sounds. You wait a little longer. You don’t turn away. I could tell you what’s been happening. I could make it sound all right. I start with something easy, then lose my place halfway through. [Low cello enters after the verse; one answering phrase] [Male lead, still restrained] You don’t fill the quiet. You don’t look away. I find my hands have opened while I’m trying to explain. I’ve spent so long being steady I can do it without thinking. I can hear what someone needs before they know how to ask. [Viola joins softly; cello stays sparse] [Refrain — male lead; woman adds a soft harmony only on “You’re still here”] And for a minute, I don’t have to know what to call it, or what to do. You’re still here. I’m still here. That’s all I can say. [Bridge — piano alone; male lead exposed] I’m tired. [Pause — natural breath] I nearly take it back. [Brief pause] You don’t make me. [Final refrain — male lead opens gradually; strings rise, woman’s harmonies enter late] So I leave the words unfinished. I let the silence stay. For once, I don’t turn what hurts into something I can give away. You’re still here. I’m still here. And I don’t have to disappear to make it through the day. [Outro — arrangement falls away; male lead, nearly spoken] You asked how I’ve been. [One breath] This time, I tell you.
