(Verse 1)
Sunday evening feels heavy again,
tiny shoes still waiting by the door.
Their laughter lingers in the corners,
though my arms don’t hold them anymore.
I put the toys away so quietly,
every piece knows what it stands for.
A weekend full of life in this house,
and Monday whispers: “It’s over once more.”
(Chorus)
And when the door closes behind them,
I’m a father with stories only children understand.
There’s a heart that cracks but never breaks,
staying strong for them, even when I can’t.
After every weekend I feel that hit —
an empty room, but a heart full of it.
(Verse 2)
I stare at photos on my phone,
their smiles burning warm inside my chest.
We chased each other through the park,
and now this silence is what’s left.
I clear the plates where they were sitting,
their voices echo in the hall.
It’s crazy how quiet a home can be
when no one’s running through at all.
(Chorus)
And when the door closes behind them,
I’m a father with stories only children understand.
There’s a heart that cracks but never breaks,
staying strong for them, even when I can’t.
After every weekend I feel that hit —
an empty room, but a heart full of it.
(Bridge)
Sometimes I wonder if they feel
how loud my heartbeat gets when they leave.
But love’s not measured in days we share —
it stays, no matter how few they may be.
(Final Chorus)
And when the door closes behind them,
I stay here holding on to every memory.
There’s a heart that hurts but never breaks,
their world is mine, unconditionally.
After every weekend I feel that hit —
an empty room, but a heart full of it.