A Just-In-Case Kind

[Verse 1]
The road-salt on the stoop of the Foursquare on Riopelle
Makes a shape like a ghost you're too young to spell.
Your shoulders all knotted up, a new kind of tight,
Standing under the weak buzz of the porch light.

[Chorus]
A pinch behind the shoulder, then brush it from your coat.
Just a thing the blood remembers, nevermind the words that got spoke.
A just-in-case kind of grace, then turn your face away.

[Verse 2]
The heat from the vent clicks on, smells like burning dust.
Heard grandma say "don't you let that shadow follow us."
You flinch at the sound of a key in the downstairs lock,
a nervous little tic that runs around the block.

[Chorus]
A pinch behind the shoulder, then brush it from your coat.
Just a thing the blood remembers, nevermind the words that got spoke.
A just-in-case kind of grace, then turn your face away.

[Instrumental Break]
(A driving motorik beat underpins chopped vocal samples, a swirling Rhodes melody, and the distant sound of a city bus braking. Lasts for 20 seconds.)

[Bridge]
Got the family key, but the lock was changed before your birth.
Just a pattern in the hands, a cold bit of Detroit earth.

[Outro]
So just... turn up the music. Yeah. Forget it for the night.