Junk Drawer Keystone

[Verse 1]
(A cappella)
Your set of keys in the junk drawer by the spice rack, Pops.
Brass house key, two for the Ford, the little one for the lockbox.
(Beat drops)
The rust flakes off 'em like dead skin, smell like failure and rain,
Seven years this October, I been practicing your name
Under my breath, just to see if it still carries the pain.
Learned your trade, I can jimmy a lock, can hot-wire a fuse,
Guess you can’t prune the roots when you refuse the fruit it produces.
I map the teeth on the keystone, a skyline of every argument we had.

[Chorus]
This cold weight in my palm, the sound it makes when I shake it,
A promise that don't unlock nothin', a bond, I can't break it.
Just a ghost in my pocket, a history I can't quit,
Put 'em back in the dark next to the screwdrivers and the grit.

[Verse 2]
Remember you told me, "Son, a man's worth is the doors he can open"?
Was that before or after you left Simone’s college fund broken?
The heat off the asphalt on Crenshaw that August felt personal,
Like the whole city knew the verdict but the court was informal.
Now all I turn are the knobs on this Moog, I build my own house outta sound,
Tryna find a clean sine wave in the static that's all around.
Every synth patch a new deadbolt, every melody a new wall,
While your keys just sit there waiting for a call you'll never make, after all.

[Chorus]
This cold weight in my palm, the sound it makes when I shake it,
A promise that don't unlock nothin', a bond, I can't break it.
Just a ghost in my pocket, a history I can't quit,
Put 'em back in the dark next to the screwdrivers and the grit.

[Bridge]
It ain't anger no more. It's just… inventory.
A catalog of a man I knew. End of the story.
The branch grows crooked, yeah, but it still reaches for the sun,
I'm done running from the gardener, and I'm done with the gun.

[Outro]
The drawer slides shut. The tumblers in my chest click into place.
Yeah. Silence got its own space.