Floorboard Hymns

[Verse 1]
The ten-dollar wine glass shattered at 2 AM
on the floorboards that double as my ceiling again.
Felt the shockwave right through the popcorn finish,
a final sentence I knew you couldn't un-spin.
And I rewound the sound in my head, a cracked cassette,
just to hear the silence that you ain't left yet.

[Chorus]
And oh, Ababa, I hope she finds a room with a view,
where the foundation's level and the framing is new.
I hope the walls don't remember a goddamn thing.
This whole building is breathing easier now, or so I sing.

[Verse 2]
Your U-Haul blocked the hydrant on a Tuesday noon,
sweating in that thin t-shirt, moving out too soon.
You never saw me watching from my window frame,
just another neighbor who never learned your first name.
Heard him shout "just leave the damn keys on the hook!"
— a closing chapter in someone else's book.

[Chorus]
And oh, Ababa, I hope she finds a room with a view,
where the foundation's level and the framing is new.
I hope the walls don't remember a goddamn thing.
This whole building is breathing easier now, or so I sing.

[Bridge]
But this quiet ain't peace, it's just a load-bearing wall gone,
an empty space humming from dusk until the dawn.
The whole structure's groaning, settling in a different way.

[Chorus]
And oh, I hope she finds a room with a view,
where the foundation's level and the framing is new.
I hope the walls don't remember a goddamn thing.
This whole building is breathing easier now, or so I sing.

[Outro]
Now the hum of my Folgers machine is the loudest sound.
Another ghost in this West Oakland ground.