[Verse 1]
Eleven forty, kitchen island, ice cubes sweating in the bowl,
somebody's cousin telling the fishing story for the third time whole,
host keeps refilling cups like refilling is a love language,
I'm nodding at a joke I didn't catch the first half of the damage,
coats are stacked three deep on the bed like a quiet avalanche,
my battery icon's red, I'm running on the last percent of chance,
I keep checking the hallway clock, measuring the exits by the inch,
every "just one more minute" costs more than it's worth, not a cent to flinch,
the music's a wall I'm leaning on just to look like I'm fine,
I love these people plenty, it's the room that crossed the line.
[Chorus]
Battery's dead, I'm running on fumes and a polite little smile,
let me slip out the side door, I'll love you again in a while.
[Verse 2]
So I grab my jacket off the pile without unstacking the rest,
text the host from the sidewalk: "had to run, tonight was the best,"
no big goodbye tour, no explaining why my tank ran shallow,
just quiet feet on gravel and the porch light turning yellow,
phone goes face-down in my pocket, screen asleep, no glow to steer by,
it hums the turns into my ear, left then straight, I don't need the sky,
some low-tide sound of rain that isn't rain comes through the speaker,
steady as a hand on the small of my back, saying easy, be the seeker
of your own front door, nothing chasing you, nothing to outrun,
just one tired person walking home before the party's done.
[Verse 3]
Key turns easy in a lock that knows my hand by heart,
the hallway light clicks on alone, no crowd to pick apart,
I drop my shoes by the mat, let the silence do the talking,
the kind that doesn't ask me questions while I'm quietly unlocking
all the noise I carried home still ringing in my chest,
jacket on the chair, I breathe out everything I hadn't guessed
was weighing on my shoulders like a coat I couldn't shed,
the fridge hums soft and steady like a lullaby instead
of laughter down a hallway, of a party's bright demand,
just me and a glass of water, held in my own hand.
[Bridge]
I'll still feel the small guilt sitting shotgun on the ride,
wonder if they noticed, wonder if that counts as a lie
by not lying — just by leaving quiet, and that part doesn't mend,
some exits never get easier, you just get kinder at the end.
[Chorus]
Battery's dead, I'm running on fumes and a polite little smile,
let me slip out the side door, I'll love you again in a while.
[Chorus]
Battery's dead, I'm running on fumes and a polite little smile,
let me slip out the side door, I'll love you again in a while.