This is morning
its when I spend the most time
thinking 'bout what I've given up.
It's a warning
were you should've called but the curtains closed
and your thinking 'bout what I've given up.
Where are you now?
As I'm sitting here alone again
I'm writting you a symphony of sound.
Where are you now?
As I merge the words and notes together
this pitch can burn a hole in anyone.
It was you I was thinking of.
I read your letter
the one you left when you broke into my house
retracing everystep you made.
It said "I love you always,"
and there's a piece of me in every single
second of every single day
but if it's true then tell me how it got this way.
Where are you now?
As I'm blasting through the stereo
I'm conducting you a symphony of sound.
Where are you now?
As I merge the words and notes together
this pitch can burn a hole in anyone.
It was you I was thinking of.
Where are you now?
Where are you now?
This is my mixed tape for her.
It's like I wrote every note
with my own fingers.
Ruki Warp Community Member 
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Community Member