Midnight and Something

I'm walking slow again,

your coat is still hung by the mirror.

The taxi takes the longest way—

as if it knew I don’t wanna get there.

And every thought turns into you,

no matter what I try to do.

And I crumble,

each time I reach your street.

I rehearse it,

but forget what to say when we meet.

‘Cause I’m back at midnight and something,

with your name on every door.

I keep chasing shadows of you,

like I’ve done a hundred times before.

And if I ever made it right,

would it still feel wrong?

Would you still be gone?

---

Still smell your favorite tea,

your books untouched, just where they lay.

I try to sleep, but all I dream

is the way you used to look at me that way.

The static hums in stereo,

like whispers I no longer know.

And I’m hollow

in the spaces you once filled.

And I follow

a map that time has stilled.

‘Cause I’m back at midnight and something,

with your voice stuck in my head.

If I told you all the things I meant,

would they matter now instead?

And if I held you one more time,

would it feel the same?

Would you still have changed?

---

Midnight and something...

I still come back,

though I know you won’t.