How you know (When it's Over)

<vocal_gender female> <vocal_type solo_female_lead> <vocal_register chest_voice> <vocal_tone gritty, powerful, emotive, raw> <vocal_dynamics wide, explosive_choruses> <vocal_focus centerpiece> <tempo midrock> <intro instrumental_only 2_bars> <vocal_entry bar_3_beat_1> <count_in off> <instrumentation electric_guitars_crunchy, drums_tight_dry, bass_warm_present, piano_subtle_optional> <instrument electric_guitar_clean verse_centered> <instrument electric_guitar_distorted chorus_center_spread> <instrument toms_emphatic bridge> <production modern_alt_rock, studio_polish, close_room, low_reverb_vocal> <mood defiant, resilient, cathartic> <space small_room_controlled> <mix vocal_forward, drums_punchy, bass_present, guitars_centered, stereo_width_moderate, verse_narrow, chorus_broader> <section order intro, verse, chorus, verse, chorus, bridge, final_chorus> Verse 1 How do you know when it’s over? How do you tell when something’s done? The rooms feel wider than they used to, like they’re waiting on someone. There’s an empty CD case on the table, dirty dishes piled in the sink. A laundry basket left in the corner, and too much time to think. Chorus You know it's over when the sound leaves the room, when the light won't stay on no matter what you do. Your breath becomes a solitary sigh, when you call out his name and there's no reply. You can feel the loneliness in your bones— that's how you know you're all alone. Verse 2 You walk past the places you shared once, trying hard not to look straight in. The couch still holds the shape of last week, like it’s waiting for him again. The hallway keeps every footstep, but none of them sound like his. You keep talking into the quiet, hoping it’s something he’ll fix. Chorus You know it’s over when the sound leaves the room, when the light won’t stay on no matter what you do. Your breath comes out quiet, like you’re trying not to break. When you call out his name and there’s no reply, that’s when it hits you harder than you planned — that’s when you realize you’ve been standing here alone. Bridge It didn’t fall apart quickly — no fight, no door, no final word. Just silence stretching longer until you finally hear what you’ve heard. Final Chorus You know it’s over when the sound leaves the room, when the light won’t stay on no matter what you do. Your breath comes out shaking like you can’t hold it in. When you call out his name and there’s still no reply, that’s when it hits you harder than you planned — that’s when you finally see you’ve been standing here alone.