[Intro — Rain on Metal Steps, Bass Pulse, Distant Door Buzzer]

[Verse 1]
The florist closed, the baker changed;
The corner looked both small and strange.
The number seven still leaned right;
The stairwell kept its weak yellow light.
I climbed past names in plastic rows,
Past someone's boots, a child's red coat.
Where yours had sat in careful print,
A yellow strip of glue stayed fixed.

[Pre-Chorus]
I pressed the buzzer all the same.
A stranger answered through the rain:
“She left last month. That's all I know.
She took the boxes, left no note.”

[Chorus]
No forwarding address,
No number on the door,
Your name scraped from the mailbox
Where it used to live before.
I carried one wet envelope
With nowhere left to go.

[Verse 2]
The landlord knew your final rent,
Not where the moving boxes went.
He said you left the curtains there
And gave away the kitchen chair.
I checked the café down the street;
The woman still knew what you'd drink.
“She came in once to say goodbye.
I haven't seen her since July.”

[Pre-Chorus]
The envelope went soft with rain;
Blue ink ran through the final name.
I held it underneath my coat;
The wet blue bled across my clothes.

[Chorus]
No forwarding address,
No number on the door,
Your name scraped from the mailbox
Where it used to live before.
I carried one wet envelope
With nowhere left to go.

[Guitar Solo — Buzzer Rhythm Under a Wide Lead]

[Bridge]
I could have asked our closest friend,
Could have left my number then.
Instead I named retreat “respect”
And left before the steps were wet.

[Final Chorus]
No forwarding address,
No number on the door.
Your name was gone in daylight;
Mine stayed hidden as before.
I still had our closest friend's name;
I chose the stairs and left again.

[Outro — Footsteps Descending, Rain Easing]
I leave the building, count to ten,
Then look back at the stairs again.
That pale square where your label sat
Marks where I stopped and didn't ask.
