[Slow, melancholy opening, sad]
(Verse 1)
He wakes up to the ceiling, it’s the same as yesterday,
Coffee on the counter but he lets it drift away.
His phone lights up with faces he forgot how to feel,
He scrolls like he’s a ghost behind a steering wheel.
(Pre‑Chorus)
And he’s been folding into shadows on the floor,
Trying not to want anything anymore…
(Chorus)
He’s a faded Polaroid, colors running from the light,
A song that someone started but forgot to write.
He’s breathing out the days like he’s barely even there,
Hands in his pockets, with nothing left to spare.
He’s given up on trying,
But he’s still somehow surviving.
(Verse 2)
There’s a jacket by the doorway he used to wear outside,
Now it’s dust and memories and things he never tried.
The world keeps spinning circles he can’t bring himself to chase,
He whispers to the mirror, “I don’t recognize that face.”
(Pre‑Chorus)
He drifts like empty pages on the wind,
Not sure where he stops or where he begins…
(Chorus)
He’s a faded Polaroid, colors running from the light,
A song that someone started but forgot to write.
He’s breathing out the days like he’s barely even there,
Hands in his pockets, with nothing left to spare.
He’s given up on trying,
But he’s still somehow surviving.
(Bridge)
And maybe there’s a spark he dropped somewhere along the road,
Maybe there’s a story left inside him to unfold.
But for now he sits in silence while the world keeps humming on,
A quiet, motionless passenger
In a life that feels half‑gone.
(Final Chorus)
He’s a faded Polaroid, colors running from the light,
A heart that’s still beating though he’s tired of the fight.
He’s drifting through the days like a whisper in the air,
Too worn out to care, but still somehow there.
He’s given up on shining—
But maybe, someday, he’ll find a reason
To keep trying.
FacingWest
