[00:00.000] 作词 : Rayshea
[00:00.170] 作曲 : Rayshea
[00:00.340] 编曲 : Rayshea
[00:00.510]The attic dust still tastes of lemonade,
[00:03.600]Your bicycle leans where the sunlight frayed.
[00:06.810]A hopscotch grid on the driveway’ s cheek,
[00:09.660]Fades like the freckles I couldn’ t keep.
[00:13.140]We built forts with sheets and tomorrow’ s lies,
[00:16.440]Chased fireflies as the world outgrew our size.
[00:25.080]Now the porch swing creaks a lullaby,
[00:28.380]For dreams that left without saying goodbye.
[00:32.340]Oh, echoes of the unsaid,
[00:34.980]Dance in the rainbows that our crayons bled.
[00:37.560]Time’ s a thief with a pocket of years,
[00:40.770]But your shadow still climbs my stairs of tears.
[00:44.100]In the whispers of rusted swing chains,
[00:47.520]Childhood hums what my heart still names.
[00:50.910]The oak tree wears our initials like a scar,
[00:54.120]Its branches hold the moon we thought was ours.
[00:57.390]You hid secrets in a mason jar’ s womb,
[01:00.420]Now they ferment with the scent of your room.
[01:03.690]The snow globe cracked, but the flakes still fall,
[01:06.840]A silent storm in a glass- walled hall.
[01:10.170]We were sailors on a carpet sea,
[01:13.110]Lost to tides of what we couldn’ t be.
[01:16.530]Oh, echoes of the unsaid,
[01:19.170]Dance in the rainbows that our crayons bled.
[01:21.870]Time’ s a thief with a pocket of years,
[01:24.990]But your shadow still climbs my stairs of tears.
[01:28.350]In the whispers of rusted swing chains,
[01:31.740]Childhood hums what my heart still names.
[01:47.910]Oh the wallpaper blooms with forgotten vines,
[01:50.460]A pressed dandelion rewinds the lines.
[01:53.640]We’ re fossils in the amber of maybe,
[01:56.730]A museum of almosts, bittersweet and hazy.
[02:02.310]Oh, echoes of the unsaid,
[02:04.980]Dance in the rainbows that our crayons bled.
[02:07.620]Time’ s a thief with a pocket of years,
[02:10.770]But your shadow still climbs my stairs of tears.
[02:14.100]In the whispers of rusted swing chains,
[02:17.550]Childhood hums what my heart still names.
[02:21.150]So let December’ s light decompose,
[02:24.210]The ghost of snowflakes on my nose.
[02:27.510]Echoes of the unsaid, soft as a bruise—
[02:30.510]The childhood I outgrew still wears your shoes.
[02:47.100]Oh the wallpaper blooms with forgotten vines,
[02:50.280]A pressed dandelion rewinds the lines.
[02:53.310]We’ re fossils in the amber of maybe,
[02:55.980]A museum of almosts, bittersweet and hazy.
[03:00.039]Oh, echoes of the unsaid,
[03:02.100]rusted swing chains,
[03:03.330]Childhood hums what my heart still names.
[03:11.940]Oh the wallpaper blooms with forgotten vines,
[03:14.940]A pressed dandelion rewinds the lines.
[03:18.090]We’ re fossils in the amber of maybe,
[03:21.180]A museum of almosts, bittersweet and hazy.

作词 : Rayshea
作曲 : Rayshea
编曲 : Rayshea
The attic dust still tastes of lemonade,
Your bicycle leans where the sunlight frayed.
A hopscotch grid on the driveway’ s cheek,
Fades like the freckles I couldn’ t keep.
We built forts with sheets and tomorrow’ s lies,
Chased fireflies as the world outgrew our size.
Now the porch swing creaks a lullaby,
For dreams that left without saying goodbye.
Oh, echoes of the unsaid,
Dance in the rainbows that our crayons bled.
Time’ s a thief with a pocket of years,
But your shadow still climbs my stairs of tears.
In the whispers of rusted swing chains,
Childhood hums what my heart still names.
The oak tree wears our initials like a scar,
Its branches hold the moon we thought was ours.
You hid secrets in a mason jar’ s womb,
Now they ferment with the scent of your room.
The snow globe cracked, but the flakes still fall,
A silent storm in a glass- walled hall.
We were sailors on a carpet sea,
Lost to tides of what we couldn’ t be.
Oh, echoes of the unsaid,
Dance in the rainbows that our crayons bled.
Time’ s a thief with a pocket of years,
But your shadow still climbs my stairs of tears.
In the whispers of rusted swing chains,
Childhood hums what my heart still names.
Oh the wallpaper blooms with forgotten vines,
A pressed dandelion rewinds the lines.
We’ re fossils in the amber of maybe,
A museum of almosts, bittersweet and hazy.
Oh, echoes of the unsaid,
Dance in the rainbows that our crayons bled.
Time’ s a thief with a pocket of years,
But your shadow still climbs my stairs of tears.
In the whispers of rusted swing chains,
Childhood hums what my heart still names.
So let December’ s light decompose,
The ghost of snowflakes on my nose.
Echoes of the unsaid, soft as a bruise—
The childhood I outgrew still wears your shoes.
Oh the wallpaper blooms with forgotten vines,
A pressed dandelion rewinds the lines.
We’ re fossils in the amber of maybe,
A museum of almosts, bittersweet and hazy.
Oh, echoes of the unsaid,
rusted swing chains,
Childhood hums what my heart still names.
Oh the wallpaper blooms with forgotten vines,
A pressed dandelion rewinds the lines.
We’ re fossils in the amber of maybe,
A museum of almosts, bittersweet and hazy.