A Hundred-Year Mortgage

[Verse 1]
He said:
"The doorman on the Rittenhouse won't even meet my eyes."
She said:
"Just walk on in like you belong, don't you apologize.
It's Sunday, two o'clock, the viewing's full of ghosts.
Feel that countertop? That marble's cold as a Beaufort coast."

[Pre-Chorus]
He said:
"We could dovetail all our days into this single window frame,
Forget the sound the SEPTA makes when it screams out your name."

[Chorus]
She said:
"It's just a game we're playing, honey, just a little lie."
He said:
"A hundred-year mortgage on this piece of sky."

[Verse 2]
She said:
"I drew the trusses for this floor, I know just how they breathe.
The air smells like ozone, fresh paint, and money you can't leave."
He said:
"My Gussie's hands were raw from shucking oysters by the pail.
She'd say this quiet's something fragile, built on what has failed."

[Pre-Chorus]
She said:
"We could caulk the seams of every doubt and never look behind."
He said:
"Leave the Lowcountry ghosts a world they'd never even find."

[Chorus]
She said:
"It's just a game we're playing, honey, just a little lie."
He said:
"A hundred-year mortgage on this piece of sky."

[Bridge]
She touched the stainless steel appliance, then she pulled her finger back.
He saw the unpaid light bill sitting on their own counter, turning black.

[Outro]
She whispered:
"Barry... let's go home."