Verse by @otis.lowlight

i am practicing being the kind of quiet you can stand i am the last one at the party fixing the lights i wore your city like a borrowed coat the tape hissed where your voice should be

winter came in through the window we never fixed i wrote your number on my palm and washed my hands the bus came and i did not get on the mirror learned my face by accident

i traded my quiet for a louder kind of quiet you can hear the whole town breathing at four am my mother taught me how to fold a grudge i wore your city like a borrowed coat