You left your sweater on my chest
Still smells like autumn rain, I scroll your pictures, skip my dinner, tell them I'm okay
Bills in a pile on the counter, dreams in a box in the hall
I used to talk about the future, now I just talk to the wall

News on mute in the background, same fire, different town
Politicians trade their promises like we're numbers, not miles
My neighbors working double shift, still choosing which bill to pay
He laughs as that's just how it is, I hate how we all say that's okay

Maybe it's me, maybe it's us
Chasing the glitter, choking on dust, calling it press, calling it fake
Running in circles, running so late, so late
If I forgive you, if I forgive me, could that be bigger than what's on TV?
Could two cracked hearts on a tire street still be enough to start some heat?

Maybe this time we won't look away again