[Intro – Voice 1, muffled, like a tape recording]
I still hear you walking through the house.
But there’s no one here.
Just me… and the silence.
Or maybe… us.
---
[Verse 1 – Voice 2, low and distant, emotionally flat but trembling]
You left.
But everything stayed.
The cracked mug.
The stain on the stove.
The smell of sleepy mornings.
Like time just…
paused.
Stuck.
Watching me
the way you did
that day —
like, “Who the hell are you
without me?”
---
[Whisper layer – Voice 3, right in the ear, almost ASMR]
(You stayed in the walls...)
(I breathe in dust — and there you are…)
(You were my echo.
Now I’m yours.)
---
[Bridge – Voice 1, broken tape filter, glitching slightly]
crackles and static
Even if I forget your voice,
it’ll still be here
— in my chest —
every time
someone says goodbye
like they mean it.
---
[Chorus – all voices layered, buried under reverb, raw but melodic]
You stayed in the walls.
You whisper through cracks.
You're the creak in the floorboards,
the wind,
the glass.
I call out —
but not to you.
I scream —
and no one hears.
(Except you...)
---
[Verse 2 – Voice 2, louder now, like it’s breaking]
I wore your hoodie all winter —
not for warmth,
but for silence.
The kind that hugs.
You were a light
that never lit,
but I needed it.
Now I’m just
a lamp unplugged —
flickering for no one.
---
[Dark whisper – Voice 3, harsh, biting]
(You didn’t leave.
You grew inside.
You’re not dead.
You’re a parasite.)
(I’m not calling you back —
I just want out.)
---
[Outro – Voice 1, calm, soft, no music, fading out]
…I know you won’t come back.
But I still leave the hallway light on.
In case someone needs it.
Like I did.
Vladimirboriss02
