Twitch & Patter

[Verse 1]
You tap the dashboard clock the week the warranty ran out,
same way he'd tap the barometer to check for coming drought.
It's not a thought, it's just a pulse, a code you can't erase,
you got his worry on your brow, the lines etched on your face.
Condensation on the glass, you trace a blurry X,
a superstition from a man who only wrote in checks.
You feel the engine's quiet hum, a low and steady plea,
you're driving home his old routine, a ghost on aux, for free.

[Chorus]
Yeah, that's his ghost in your hands,
Same twitch, same patter, same second-knuckle glance.
You can't wash it off the skin,
This heirloom ache, this place it all begins.

[Verse 2]
You check the gas stove twice, a cold blue pilot light,
"Just making sure," you tell the room, swallowed by the night.
Same kitchen where your auntie said, "You got that man's despair,
and his dumb luck for finding keys, and his unruly hair."
You try to make his gumbo but the roux is always wrong,
you burn it just enough to taste the place you don't belong.
And you'd never say you miss him, that's too simple, ain't the truth,
you just hate the way his silence occupies the empty booth.

[Chorus]
Yeah, that's his ghost in your hands,
Same twitch, same patter, same second-knuckle glance.
You can't wash it off the skin,
This heirloom ache, this place it all begins.

[Bridge]
So what you gonna do with it? This map drawn on the bone?
This recipe for restlessness you're meant to stir alone?
You tell yourself it's just a habit, borrowed and mundane,
then wipe the bar in perfect circles, counter-clockwise, in the rain.

[Outro]
Same twitch. Same patter.
Yeah. Same...