Unspooled Threads

Another hour, another cold cup on the ledge.

Watching headlights trace the ceiling,

walking on the edge.

I rewrite the same old letters just to watch them burn.

Waiting on a sudden shift that never quite returns. (mhhhh)

When the dark frame opens wide,

We find the parts we try to hide.

And the night stays unresolved.

(yeah, yeah)

Two AM, the dial tone is humming on the floor.

I don't think I have the strength to open up that door.

Every shadow on the wall is mapping out the space.

Looking for a trace of warmth to slow down the pace.

When the dark frame opens wide,

We find the parts we try to hide.

And the night stays unresolved. (unresolved)