I can't help but look inside that white room,
And I don't know if you see me looking at you.
But I'm here, and maybe I'll pass your best friend
In the stairwell, but we won't stop to talk.
She only ever asks me about you.
I'm trying not to scream too loudly that you're not
Here to help us bring on the spirit.
Nobody asks me why I'm worried about you.
Nobody really notices.