Empty Crib, Heavy Arms

[Verse 1]
Tiny socks on the dresser
Name written on the wall
Blanket folded on the rocker
We never used at all
I washed those little dresses
Hung them up in careful rows
Counted weeks like counting blessings
Didn’t know how far pain goes
[Chorus]
I never heard you cry
My girl
But I still talk to you at night
I trace your face in empty air
Hold your weight in phantom light
They say I have to let you go
But how do you lose what you never got to know?
My arms remember every ounce of you
In this house that you passed through
[Verse 2]
We drove home with an empty car seat
Belt still tightened
Just in case
I kept staring at the rearview
Like I’d suddenly see your face
Your father’s hands kept shaking
When he put your toys away
We both smiled in the doorway
Then turned around and broke in separate ways
[Chorus]
I never heard you cry
My girl
But I still talk to you at night
I trace your face in empty air
Hold your weight in phantom light
They say I have to let you go
But how do you lose what you never got to know?
My arms remember every ounce of you
In this house that you passed through
[Bridge]
If love was measured in days
You only had a few
But every sunrise
Every rainstorm
Keeps arriving marked with you
I light a candle on your birthday
On the shelf above my bed
Sing a lullaby to the silence
To the life we almost had
[Chorus]
I never heard you cry
My girl
But I still talk to you at night
I trace your face in empty air
Hold your weight in phantom light
They say I have to let you go
But I still rock where I meant to rock you
My arms remember every ounce of you
In this house that you passed through

folk, Gentle acoustic ballad, slow 6/8 sway. Fingerpicked guitar close and intimate; soft piano doubling the topline in the chorus. Female vocals, fragile and raw, with light reverb. Subtle cello swells enter in second verse, lifting into a wider, tearful chorus; final refrain drops back to almost a whisper, just voice and guitar., slow, acoustic, beats