Just released today on YouTube - enjoy, I've posted the lyrics I'd written for this song. Bizarrely, the song was born from a line I heard in an episode of Stargate SG1 - the line was "How do miss something you can't remember". Struck a chord with me 
Lyrics:
I made the tea this morning,
put two cups down without a thought.
I stood there for a moment,
wondering who the other one was for.
Later, by the window,
I laughed at something I couldn't explain.
There was nothing there to make me smile,
but somehow I smiled just the same.
Little things keep happening,
gone before I understand.
Something moves before I think—
my eyes, my feet, my hands.
How do you miss something you can't remember?
How do you know when something's gone?
Why do I feel there's someone beside me
when I know I'm here alone?
There's no face that I can picture,
no place, no date, no name.
How do you miss something you can't remember
and somehow miss it just the same?
A beautiful blank page
A beautiful blank page
Last night I leant my head
towards a shoulder that wasn't there.
I caught myself and straightened,
then sat pretending I didn't care.
Sometimes my hand falls open,
like another hand should settle in.
I don't remember holding anyone,
but something remembers in my skin.
Little things keep happening,
too familiar to ignore.
Like knowing where I'm going
when I've never been before.
How do you miss something you can't remember?
How do you know when something's gone?
Why do I feel there's someone beside me
when I know I'm here alone?
There's no face that I can picture,
no place, no date, no name.
How do you miss something you can't remember
and somehow miss it just the same?
At quarter to four this afternoon,
my feet took me down to the train.
I stood there watching strangers leave,
then wondered why I came.
Walking home I caught myself
humming something soft and low.
I knew exactly where the next note went
but it's not a song I know.
It's not on the tip of my tongue,
it's somewhere on the tip of my skin.
A touch I almost recognise,
a place I think I've been.
Maybe I don't need to chase it.
Maybe it doesn't need a name.
Some things leave without completely leaving
somehow something stays.
How do you miss something you can't remember?
Maybe I don't need to know.
Maybe some part of me remembers
what the rest of me let go.
There's still no face I can picture,
no place, no date, no name.
But I can miss something I can't remember
and let myself miss it just the same.
A beautiful blank page
A beautiful blank page
A beautiful blank page
Lyrics:
I made the tea this morning,
put two cups down without a thought.
I stood there for a moment,
wondering who the other one was for.
Later, by the window,
I laughed at something I couldn't explain.
There was nothing there to make me smile,
but somehow I smiled just the same.
Little things keep happening,
gone before I understand.
Something moves before I think—
my eyes, my feet, my hands.
How do you miss something you can't remember?
How do you know when something's gone?
Why do I feel there's someone beside me
when I know I'm here alone?
There's no face that I can picture,
no place, no date, no name.
How do you miss something you can't remember
and somehow miss it just the same?
A beautiful blank page
A beautiful blank page
Last night I leant my head
towards a shoulder that wasn't there.
I caught myself and straightened,
then sat pretending I didn't care.
Sometimes my hand falls open,
like another hand should settle in.
I don't remember holding anyone,
but something remembers in my skin.
Little things keep happening,
too familiar to ignore.
Like knowing where I'm going
when I've never been before.
How do you miss something you can't remember?
How do you know when something's gone?
Why do I feel there's someone beside me
when I know I'm here alone?
There's no face that I can picture,
no place, no date, no name.
How do you miss something you can't remember
and somehow miss it just the same?
At quarter to four this afternoon,
my feet took me down to the train.
I stood there watching strangers leave,
then wondered why I came.
Walking home I caught myself
humming something soft and low.
I knew exactly where the next note went
but it's not a song I know.
It's not on the tip of my tongue,
it's somewhere on the tip of my skin.
A touch I almost recognise,
a place I think I've been.
Maybe I don't need to chase it.
Maybe it doesn't need a name.
Some things leave without completely leaving
somehow something stays.
How do you miss something you can't remember?
Maybe I don't need to know.
Maybe some part of me remembers
what the rest of me let go.
There's still no face I can picture,
no place, no date, no name.
But I can miss something I can't remember
and let myself miss it just the same.
A beautiful blank page
A beautiful blank page
A beautiful blank page
