Sunday mourning

Verse 1
I learned your name in a whisper
Back pew, fingers intertwined
Stained glass cut through your features
Like God was drawing lines

You said, “Don’t look at me like that”
But you never turned away
There was something holy in it
Something we couldn’t say

Pre-Chorus
And I swore I felt it too
Something sacred, something cruel

Chorus
We were kneeling in the wrong light
Praying for a different kind
Of love they never taught us
But we held it like a crime

If God is in the silence
Why do I hear your voice?
Every time I try to leave you
I don’t feel like I have a choice

Verse 2
Your mother kept the curtains closed
Said the world would stain your skin
But I saw you in the doorway
Like a ghost that let me in

We never spoke it out loud
But it lived in every glance
Like a sin we kept rehearsing
Like we didn’t stand a chance

Pre-Chorus
You said, “This will ruin me”
But you still reached out for me

Chorus
We were kneeling in the wrong light
Praying for a different kind
Of love they never taught us
But we held it like a crime

If God is in the silence
Why do I hear your voice?
Every time I try to leave you
I don’t feel like I have a choice

Bridge (very slow, almost spoken)
I tried to wash you off my hands
In a bathroom sink at midnight
Cold water, shaking skin
But you stayed there…

Like a hymn I couldn’t forget
Like a bruise I couldn’t hide
Like something I was born with
And something I would die with

Final Chorus (bigger, emotional swell)
We were kneeling in the wrong light
Heaven never felt this close
If loving you’s a sickness
Why’s it all I’ve ever known?

If God is in forgiveness
Then why do I still ache?
Every time I try to leave you
You’re the only prayer I make

Outro (quiet, hollow)
I still see you in the stained glass
Even when I close my eyes

Dark ambient indie / slowcore with gothic Americana elements, ethereal vocals, reverb-heavy guitar, minimal percussion