在手机上保存，获得更好体验
The desk we shared still has the stain
A tiny heart we drew in vain
We passed the notes like paper planes
The teacher knew us by our names
The library aisle still smells of glue
That musty scent belonged to you
I pull the book with broken spine
A bookmark falls—your hand-drawn sign
The desk still keeps our names in ink
The school walls turned a dusty pink
A little pulse begins to hum
A single note inside my thumb
The desk still keeps our names in ink
The school walls turned a dusty pink
A tiny knot inside my throat
Turns all the silence to a note
The library aisle still smells of glue
That musty scent belonged to you
I pull the book with broken spine
A bookmark falls—your hand-drawn sign
The desk still keeps our names in ink
The school walls turned a dusty pink
A little pulse begins to hum
A single note inside my thumb
The desk still keeps our names in ink
The school walls turned a dusty pink
A tiny knot inside my throat
Turns all the silence to a note
