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外链地址
http://www.eemp3.com/audiofile/38390960ecabbe7b3e78b0c8e3a3cc9d.mp3
点击复制two plates, one untouched
i still cook like you’ll show up
steam fades into empty air
no footsteps, just an empty chair
tv’s on but no one speaks
fork in hand, but i ain’t eatin' in weeks
your cup still sits by the sink
like it’s waiting for you to blink
cold dinner, same old seat
talkin' to silence like we used to speak
you left, but your shadow stays
in burnt toast and quiet days
i set the table, fold the napkin right
just habits now — not hope, not fight
i pour your tea, then pour it out
i whisper your name, but not too loud
this ain’t grief — it’s routine pain
a dull ache with a different name
nobody sees the empty plate
but it’s the heaviest part of my fate
cold dinner, same old seat
talkin' to silence like we used to speak
you left, but your shadow stays
in burnt toast and quiet days
don’t say “move on,” i’m barely here
livin' in echoes, chokin’ on fear
your ghost don’t scream, it softly hums
while i wait for someone who never comes