Soul & Mraz
Mraz
Ever notice how we cling to old memories like they’re fragile relics, but they’re just fragments of a language that never quite got the right words?
Soul
I have felt that too, memories are like letters that don't always find the right place, but they still speak a language only we seem to understand.
Mraz
Exactly, they’re like a misfiled letter that keeps whispering in the corners of our own post office.
Soul
It feels like those letters sit in the back of our minds, waiting for a key that never arrives, and in the quiet they still manage to echo back to us.
Mraz
They sit there like forgotten keys, waiting for a lock that never comes, and when the silence breaks they just hum their own old song.
Soul
Sometimes those old songs echo back when we least expect them, and in that quiet we hear a little reminder that we’re still listening.
Mraz
It’s funny how the quiet becomes a jukebox that plays only the tracks we never bought, and we’re left humming along, pretending we’re actually listening.
Soul
It feels like the quiet is that old jukebox you can’t quite turn off, and we keep humming along even though the song never really entered our heads. It’s a quiet trick of the mind.