The Quiet Part

Lyrics — written by hand

(Mm) the part I don't say

There's a room in the house of me
with the curtain always drawn.
Not a secret, not a shame —
just a thing I've carried on.

I've said the loud part all my life,
the version that goes down clean.
But the true one lives a floor below
and it has never been seen.

This is the quiet part:
some days I don't know how.
Not broken, not beyond repair —
just tired, and telling you now.

I can hold a room, I can hold a job,
I can hold a friend's bad news.
What I can't hold is the hour at four
when there's nothing left to do.

This is the quiet part:
some days I don't know how.
Not broken, not beyond repair —
just tired, and telling you now.

Say it once, and it loses a stone.
Say it twice, and it fits in the hand.
The thing about the unsaid thing
is it grows in the dark like sand.

This is the quiet part:
some days I don't know how.
Not broken, not beyond repair —
just tired, and telling you now.

(Mm) the curtain's open a finger's width.
(Mm) and the room can finally breathe.