Текст песни
I used to breathe without thinking — air was just air
Then you walked in and the atmosphere changed I became aware
Of every inhale, every pause, every time my chest would rise
Without you, the oxygen is thin I'm learning to despise
The way my lungs forget to work when you're not in the room
The way the air gets heavy, the way the silence blooms
Into something I can't swallow I need you to survive
Not in a metaphor Not in a poem I literally can't thrive
Without the sound of your voice, the shape of your name
You're my oxygen I'm not the same
Without you, the air is just a lie
I'm gasping for a version of the sky that has you in it I'm losing time
My oxygen — you're the only thing that fills my chest
Not like air — like a rest
From the weight of being alive without a reason
You're my oxygen You're the only season I want to survive
Without you, I'm a room with no windows, a house with no door
A lung that forgot how to explore — the simple act of being
My oxygen — I'm not breathing I'm just seeing the shape of you through glass I'm done with the past
I tried to find you in other faces, in other cities, in other days
But their air was thin Their air was a maze — I kept getting lost
You're the only compass I trust You're the only cost I'm willing to pay
For the privilege of breathing the same atmosphere as you
I know it sounds dramatic I know it sounds untrue
But I've been holding my breath since the day we met
Not because I'm scared — because I haven't needed to inhale yet
I've been living on the memory of your presence in my lungs
My oxygen — you're the only song I've ever sung
Without you, the air is just a lie
I'm gasping for a version of the sky that has you in it I'm losing time
My oxygen — you're the only thing that fills my chest
Not like air — like a rest
From the weight of being alive without a reason
You're my oxygen You're the only season I want to survive
Without you, I'm a room with no windows, a house with no door
A lung that forgot how to explore — the simple act of being
My oxygen — I'm not breathing I'm just seeing the shape of you through glass I'm done with the past
I've been walking around like a fish out of water
Gasping for a version of the world that's hotter — with you in it
Not dramatic — just desperate to be near you every minute
I don't need a reason I don't need a cure
Just your breath in my lungs Just the quiet assurance
That you're real, that you're here, that you're not a dream
My oxygen — I'm floating upstream, but it's worth it
The walls close in when you're not around — the quiet grows too loud
I'm not breathing, I'm just existing in the space between your exhale and mine
You're the only sign that I'm still alive — the only reason I'm still trying
The silence stretches wide without your voice inside
My lungs forgot the rhythm — they only know your tide
You're the air I didn't know I needed You're the light I didn't see
My oxygen — don't ever leave me
My oxygen — you're the only thing that fills my chest
Not like air — like a rest
From the weight of being alive without a reason
You're my oxygen You're the only season I want to survive
I'm not holding my breath anymore — I'm breathing you in
Not afraid, not trembling — just living within
The space you take up in my lungs, in my chest, in my bones
My oxygen — you're the only air I've ever known
