Old Doors

There’s a box beneath my bed I haven’t opened in ten years

Receipts from towns I can’t remember Letters stained with somebody’s tears

There’s a number in my phone That I know I’ll never call

Funny what a man can carry Without carrying it at all

I’ve learned to live with what I know

Some things just refuse to go

We all keep something in the dark

A little piece we never name

You can build a life around it

Still it knows you just the same I’ve forgiven who I was

For the things I couldn’t see

But some old doors don’t disappear They just stop opening for me

I remember Sunday mornings

Coffee cooling by the sink

My old man would stare outside

Like he knew more than he’d say

I spent half my life believing

I could outrun yesterday

Then I found out getting older

Means you finally understand

You don’t bury every scar

Some just tell you where you are

I’ve been wrong

I’ve been proud

I’ve walked away

I’ve said it loud

I’ve loved hard

I’ve lost some

I’ve stayed too long

I’ve run too far

And if tomorrow calls my number

I’ll answer like I always do Not because I got it right

Just because I made it through

We all keep something in the dark

A little piece we never name

You can build a life around it

Still it knows you just the same

I’ve forgiven who I was

For the things I couldn’t see

And those old doors can stay right where they are

They don’t belong to me (hahaha)

Yeah… Took me long enough.