Kettle & Envelopes

[intro]
Rain on the kitchen window, kettle humming low

[verse]
You left the kettle on the counter, still warm from Sunday
Half a tin of Earl Grey nobody else will drink
I keep setting two mugs down out of habit
Then putting one back in the cupboard just to think

[chorus]
So write me letters, real ones, in your crooked hand
Tell me the new city smells like rain and cheap espresso stands
I'll boil the kettle every Friday like you're coming through the door
And read your words till they're soft as the sweater you forgot on my floor

[verse]
Your room's a museum now, posters curling at the corners
The stain on the ceiling board from the summer you spilled wine
Mama calls it yours still, like you're just out walking
Like distance is a bus you'll catch somewhere down the line

[chorus]
So write me letters, real ones, in your crooked hand
Tell me the new city smells like rain and cheap espresso stands
I'll boil the kettle every Friday like you're coming through the door
And read your words till they're soft as the sweater you forgot on my floor

[bridge]
Three hundred miles, but I swear I heard you laughing
Through the wall at midnight — could've been the kettle, could've been a dream
You always said I'd hate the quiet when you left
Turns out the quiet just makes room for remembering

[chorus]
So write me letters, real ones, in your crooked hand
Tell me the new city's louder than either of us planned
I'll boil the kettle every Friday like you're coming through the door
And save the stamps and envelopes, the whole drawer on the second floor

[outro]
Kettle sings, kettle sings
Like your voice from the next room
Come home whenever you want to