The Map We Never Drew

You’re a book with missing pages, a story left in flight

A silhouette against the glass in the middle of the night

I’m the ink that’s drying slowly, trying hard to leave a mark

While you’re a match that’s flickering, defying all the dark

You see a thousand exits where I only see the floor

I’m counting up the reasons while you’re reaching for the door

And we’re tracing the cracks in the paint on the wall

Waiting for the gravity to finally make the call

It’s a heavy kind of quiet, the kind that leaves a bruise

Standing at the threshold of the life we built just to lose

And we’re walking on the edges of the map we never drew

I’m looking for the horizon, I’m looking back at you

Is there a middle ground where the wind doesn’t blow?

Where you don’t have to chase, and I don’t have to go?

Two different directions, but the same heart center-true

Somewhere on the edges of the map we never drew

The walls here have a memory of everything we’ve said

But there’s a whole wide world of colors living in my head

I love the way you hold me, like a secret you can keep

But sometimes I’m a mountain, and the climb is getting steep

I don’t want to leave you, but I’m scared to stay the same

I’m a wild, rising river; you’re a quiet summer rain

(Male): I bought a frame for a picture we haven't even took

(Female): I’m packing up the chapters of a different kind of book

(Male): You’ve got your keys in your hand like a weapon or a shield

(Female): I’m just looking for the feeling that a heavy heart can yield

(Both): Trying to finish the conversation that doesn’t have a start

(Male): I’ll build a house with windows facing west...

(Female): I’ll find a road that never suggests a rest...

(Male): Holding onto daylight just to keep you in my sight...

(Female): I’ll send a postcard home to you every single night...

(Both): How do we love when the distance is the only thing in sight?

Yeah, we’re walking on the edges of the map we never drew

I’m looking for the horizon, I’m looking back at you

Is there a middle ground where the wind doesn’t blow?

Where you don’t have to chase, and I don’t have to go?

Two different directions, but the same heart center-true

Somewhere on the edges of the map we never drew

(Male): I’m still standing in the kitchen...

(Female): I’m already at the gate...

(Male): I’ll leave the pilot light on...

(Female): It’s getting late, it’s getting late...

(Both): Just another line on a map we never drew.

(Male): You were the north I followed...

(Female): But the wind is turning cold.