Spare Room Keys

[Sound of a phone tone, then a single voicemail beep]

[Verse 1]
(Spoken, conversational)
Hey, it's me. Sorry. It's just past three on a Tuesday afternoon.
I saw the yellow sign for Trujillo's Hardware on Agua Fria
And started building that room again, the one I keep for you.
My hands on the wheel felt like they were shaping something new.

[Chorus]
I keep spare room keys in my pocket
I keep a floor plan for the fall
Not 'cause my faith is thin as wire, Lord
Just 'cause I know the shape of a wall.

[Verse 2]
There's no furniture, just a clean pine floor, sanded 'til it's kind.
I can hear the rasp of the hand-plane leaving worry behind.
I remember my father's voice, "Measure twice, child, then you pray."
And the window's wide enough to let in the high desert day.

[Chorus]
I keep spare room keys in my pocket
I keep a floor plan for the fall
Not 'cause my faith is thin as wire, Lord
Just 'cause I know the shape of a wall.

[Bridge]
(Music strips down to a single finger-picked acoustic guitar)
These calloused hands, they remember the splinter, the weight, the cost.
It's not a sad place I'm building, for something I have lost.
It’s just a space with honest joists, a truth I have to hold.
And the light that comes through that window is a pale winter gold.

[Chorus]
(Full band and choir roar back in, immense and powerful)
I keep spare room keys in my pocket!
I keep a floor plan for the fall!
Not 'cause my faith is thin as wire, Lord!
It's just 'cause I know the shape of a wall!

[Outro]
(All instruments and choir fade out, leaving only a raw, close-mic'd vocal)
Anyway… I guess I'll let you go.

(A beat of silence, then the distinct click of a phone call ending)