Intro

Keep the door shut. Count the steps.

One for the breath, two for the debt.

Verse 1

Cold tile, bare feet, dust on the frame,

A cracked little mirror that remembers my name.

Cup on the table, black ring in the wood,

I said I was leaving; the hallway said, “Should?”

Keys in my fist, but the lock won’t turn,

Old house holds secrets that refuse to learn.

Your voice in the vent says, “Sit where you stand,”

I feel that low warning crawl up my hand.

Chorus

Down in the room where the walls lean close,

Count that pulse, let the slow drum roll.

No way out, but I still say go—

Round and round where the cold winds blow.