You are not the walls of my empty room
Nor the comfort of my blanket when I'm cold
Not the bed where I cry and sleep at night
Nor the brightness when I turn on the light

I have seen you in all the things I love and I don't
But all I ever wanted was for you to call me home
You are a collection of all the great things unseen
A familiar warmth, a place, a longing, a feeling.

Short bus trips going home
Quick glances in your eyes that glow
You reflect through the glass window
We’re still on the road but I feel home

If only our eyes could speak
Words would hide and hearts would seek
Not taking the risk to fall for it
Would be my greatest what if

Rock, paper, scissors
You’re a book of stories untold
Rock, paper, scissors
It’s your hands I want to hold

Ibubulong sa hangin ang hiling na paghilom
Sikip ang mga alaala sa iisang kahapon
Maglalakbay sa hardin kung saan nagtagpo
Nais nang tumalikod ngunit paano

Dadapo na parang isang paru-paro
Sa mga talulot na nasa palad mo
Iidlip sa ugoy ng hanging malamig
Liwanag ng ‘yong ngiti’y baon sa pagpikit

Tinatangay ng agos ang bawat hibla ng alaala
Ngayong gabi ika’y talang tinitingala
Hihimbing kaya ako sa aking pahinga
Kung kabisado pa rin ang hulma ng iyong mukha