The kettle is cold on the kitchen sill,
No steam, no hiss, the tap is still,
The morning light is pale and thin,
I feel a shiver from within.
My hands are trembling, cold and weak,
The air is too still to let me speak,
I want one sound to break the spell,
But every sound I make is mine as well.
There's no motion in the air today,
The birds have folded wings away,
My heart is drumming against my chest,
I'm on edge with nowhere to rest.
There's no motion in the air today,
The birds have folded wings away,
This silence is digging under my skin,
And the fear is wearing me thin.
My hands are trembling, cold and weak,
The air is too still to let me speak,
I want one sound to break the spell,
But every sound I make is mine as well.
There's no motion in the air today,
The birds have folded wings away,
My heart is drumming against my chest,
I'm on edge with nowhere to rest.
There's no motion in the air today,
The birds have folded wings away,
This silence is digging under my skin,
And the fear is wearing me thin.
