Worst End of the Day
Verse
The light thins out—
not fading,
just less convinced.
Air turns weightless,
as if the room
has stepped half a pace away.
Chorus
It’s the worst end of the day—
when nothing breaks,
yet something slips.
A quiet misalignment
between pulse and world,
between breath and shape.
Verse
Time moves,
but not with me.
Sound arrives
already distant.
Even my name
feels lightly worn—
like fabric brushed too often.
Chorus
It’s the worst end of the day—
not sorrow,
not fear.
Just a thin layer of glass
no one else can see,
but I can feel.
Outro
The dark doesn’t close in.
It simply continues.
And I remain—
slightly elsewhere.