Scaffold of Steam

[Verse 1]
You take down the Sports Direct mug, the one from 2012.
You flick the kettle switch, a promise to yourself.
The spoon's got a rust-spot, shaped like a bloodied thumb.
You stare right through the wall 'til the rumbling's done.

[Chorus]
And you build it just right, a ritual of light.
Three minutes of waiting for the colour to bite.
Your hands know the measure, they've carried the strain.
A little scaffold of steam against the Yorkshire rain.

[Verse 2]
The teabag swells up like a fist in a fight.
"Don't you dare touch that milk 'til the shade is right," you say.
And for a moment there, Tuesday, just gone half-eleven,
the stress-fractures on the ceiling look like a map of heaven.

[Chorus]
And you build it just right, a ritual of light.
Three minutes of waiting for the colour to bite.
Your hands know the measure, they've carried the strain.
A little scaffold of steam against the Yorkshire rain.

[Bridge]
You wrap your palms around the heat, a temporary truce.
A load-bearing silence. What's the bleeding use?
But you do it. Every night. A foundation in the dark.

[Outro]
You just… build it right.
You build it.