Track 03 · Everywhere Isn't Texas
Album track
Unsent letters become companions: evidence of a relationship that resists both anger and forgiveness. The silence is not empty; it carries everything Calla could not make safe enough to say.
Written and produced by Tulio Costa · Performed by Calla Hayes
03Official lyrics
© 2026 Tulio Costa. All rights reserved.
I bought a box of stationery at a truck stop in July The kind with faint blue lines and a watercolor sky I told myself I'd write you once the sun had dipped below The silhouette of mountains I was learning how to know But the pen felt like a foreign tool, the words came out too neat Like I was writing to a stranger, not the man I used to meet For coffee on a Tuesday, when the world was small and sweet
I drafted eleven versions, each one kinder than the last Crossed out apologies that sounded too much like the past Folded them into squares that never found your hands And buried them in pockets of abandoned plans
These letters I never sent Are weighing down my coat Each one a conversation I couldn't keep afloat Not angry, not forgiving Just caught between the two The things I should have told you And the things I never knew How to shape into a sentence Without losing you again So I carry them in silence My unwritten, loyal friends
I wrote you about the dogwoods blooming in the east And how the taste of honey here is nothing like the bees Back home, where the clover grew in patches by the fence I wrote you all the details, but I never wrote the sense Of waking up at 3 AM and reaching for your side Only to remember you were never really mine to find I was leaving long before I ever said goodbye
I sealed each one with careful folds, no tears to blur the ink I told myself that silence was a kinder way to think Than handing you my chaos in a stamped and dated page And asking you to carry what I couldn't even gauge
These letters I never sent Are weighing down my coat Each one a conversation I couldn't keep afloat Not angry, not forgiving Just caught between the two The things I should have told you And the things I never knew How to shape into a sentence Without losing you again So I carry them in silence My unwritten, loyal friends
I wonder if you've written yours to me In some unspoken, parallel geography Do you have a shoebox tucked beneath your bed With all the things you wish you'd said? Maybe silence is the language we both speak A mutual agreement not to seek The closure that would crack us in two So I'll keep my letters, and you keep yours too
These letters I never sent... (I never sent) Caught between the two (I never knew) How to shape a sentence... (Without losing you) So I carry them (I carry them) In silence...