Secondhand Maps

[drier cymbal profile, stronger low-mid glue] [tape saturation, subtle analog warmth] [softened_cymbal_transients] [balanced_stereo_field] [Verse 1] Got a box of directions that weren’t meant for me. Followed turns that lead nowhere, but I can’t let it be. There’s a sketch of a house with no foundation laid, And a list of things broken nobody thought to save. [Chorus] I keep unfolding secondhand maps, Tracing lines that don’t lead back. Everything here belongs to the past, But I’m still lost, still lost in that. [Verse 2] Found a recipe scrawled on a napkin from you. Tried to make sense, but the ink bled through. Built a drawer for a key that I’ve never owned, And a door to a room where no light gets shown. [Chorus] I keep unfolding secondhand maps, Tracing lines that don’t lead back. Everything here belongs to the past, But I’m still lost, still lost in that. [Bridge] The fact: the ink’s too faded to see. The limit: but my hand keeps holding the pieces. [Final Chorus] I keep unfolding secondhand maps, Tracing lines that don’t lead back. Everything here belongs to the past, But I’m still lost, still lost in that.