The Tideline Drawer

[Verse 1]
The key to the Cowes bike lock is rusting in the dark
Next to a book of second-class stamps you never got to start.
The warp is frayed on a friendship band from nineteen-ninety-nine,
A single tarnished cufflink that was never really mine.

[Chorus]
You pull the whole thing out just to put it all back in.
You're darning up the silence where the quiet should have been.
This house is just a loom you keep unspooling at the seam,
A half-remembered, half-invented, waking kind of dream.

[Verse 2]
It's quarter past eleven on a Tuesday, cold and grey,
The drawer still smells of lavender from a sachet you threw away.
You find the stub from the Regent Street cinema, the date has bled to white.
"It helps to keep things tidy," you had said that very night.

[Chorus]
You pull the whole thing out just to put it all back in.
You're darning up the silence where the quiet should have been.
This house is just a loom you keep unspooling at the seam,
A half-remembered, half-invented, waking kind of dream.

[Bridge]
Stop. You stop.
You pull one thread, the whole damn knot
Comes loose. You knew. You stop.

[Outro]
The drawer slides shut. The house is still.