[Verse] Dust on the windows, the morning sighs, Streets hum low under clouded skies. Coffee’s bitter, but the talk is sweet, In this crowded room where strangers meet. [Pre-Chorus] Letters fold in the palm of my hand, Tracing the maps of your distant land. [Chorus] I’m writing you from this old hostel room, With walls worn thin by a Barcelona gloom. Hear my heart in the scratch of my pen, Mistakes and dreams written over again. I’m coming home, but not just yet, In this dusty light, I’m not done yet. [Verse] Footsteps echo on cobblestone ways, Songs from the balconies, drifting haze. A voice from the past, deep in the wine, Calling me back through the lines I write. [Pre-Chorus] Every word holds a weight to bear, In this quiet dust, I find you there. [Chorus] I’m writing you from this old hostel room, With walls worn thin by a Barcelona gloom. Hear my heart in the scratch of my pen, Mistakes and dreams written over again. I’m coming home, but not just yet, In this dusty light, I’m not done yet. [Bridge] Night folds over the city’s old bones, Whispers hang like forgotten stones. Here in the silence, I hold my ground, In the space between lost and found. [Chorus] I’m writing you from this old hostel room, With walls worn thin by a Barcelona gloom. Hear my heart in the scratch of my pen, Mistakes and dreams written over again. I’m coming home, but not just yet, In this dusty light, I’m not done yet. [Outro] Dust on my fingers, ink on my soul, This letter’s a piece of where I roam. I’m coming home someday, that I know, But for now, it’s the stories that grow.