Finishes Your Name

I type "hey" to my brother, and your name comes up instead,
I type "I'm", and it says "I'm sorry", like it's reading my head.
It learned you like I learned you, every night and every word,
now it finishes my sentences with things you never heard.

My phone still finishes your name before I do,
three letters, and it's guessing, and it's always guessing you.
I've changed the wallpaper, I've changed the lock, the code,
but it still knows where I'm going, every word down that old road.
I could reset the keyboard, wipe it clean, start new,
but it's the only thing that still remembers us like I do.

It knows I said "goodnight" with three x's and a moon,
it knows I said "forever" way too often, way too soon.
It knows I used to text you every morning, every break,
now it offers me your name like an old, familiar ache.

My phone still finishes your name before I do,
three letters, and it's guessing, and it's always guessing you.
I've changed the wallpaper, I've changed the lock, the code,
but it still knows where I'm going, every word down that old road.
I could reset the keyboard, wipe it clean, start new,
but it's the only thing that still remembers us like I do.

They say it learns from what you write the most each day,
so I guess I never stopped. I guess I never went away.

My phone still finishes your name, and tonight I let it through,
three letters, and it's guessing, and tonight I let it guess you.
I didn't change a single word, I didn't change a thing,
I hit send on "I still love you", and I waited for the ring.
And three dots started blinking, and I watched my whole heart sing,
'cause my phone still finishes your name, and that's everything.

Three letters...
and it's you.