Sakura Sigh

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Verse 1)

The 5:14 train doesn’t stop here anymore,

but I still stand on the yellow line, counting the seconds.

You used to say my habit of overthinking

was just a "quiet kind of magic."

Now the silence is just a hole in the air,

and the vending machine is humming a song

that sounds exactly like the way you used to laugh

when you were tired.

[Pre]

I bought two tickets for the exhibit,

even though the seat beside me is a ghost.

I’m still wearing the sweater you forgot in October—

it smells like old books and a promise

that neither of us knew how to keep.

[Chorus]

And if the wind changes direction,

would it carry my voice back to your window?

I am a map with no destination,

tracing the outline of a city we built out of whispers.

愛してる is a word too heavy for my throat,

so I’ll leave it here, etched into the midnight rain,

falling upward,

trying to find the way back to you.

[Verse 2]

The convenience store clerk asks if I’m waiting for someone.

I smile the way you did—half-truth, half-lie—

and buy a coffee that’s already gone cold.

Do you still take your tea with a spoonful of honey?

Do you still wake up at 3 Am

to write poems you’ll never let me read?

I wonder if you’ve scrubbed my name

from the margins of your favorite notebooks.

[Bridge]

We were a sketch in charcoal—

beautiful, but easily smeared by a single mistake.

You were the shoreline, and I was the tide,

always reaching, always pulling away.

I didn't know that "forever"

had an expiration date printed in small type

on the back of our first photograph.

(Guitar Solo - Melancholic, slow build-up)

[Chorus]

If the wind changes direction,

would it carry my voice back to your window?

I am a map with no destination,

tracing the outline of a city we built out of whispers.

愛してる is a word too heavy for my throat,

so I’ll leave it here, etched into the midnight rain,

falling upward,

trying to find the way back to you.

[Outro]

The 5:14 train finally arrives.

The doors open, and the cold air rushes in.

I step inside, but I leave a space beside me—

just in case you’ve decided

to come home.

(Softly)

Just in case.

さよなら, my quiet magic.

さよなら.