Cross Keys

[Verse 1]
The little Ravens keychain is starting to fade.
Tuesday's weak sun hits the dusty air.
He holds them out, a choice already made,
and watches her fingers take them from him there.
She doesn't see him memorizing this,
the little ritual before the world begins.

[Chorus]
The only set they ever got made,
a little weight of all the plans they laid.
The jingle of it is a kind of prayer.

[Verse 2]
He thinks about that night at Druid Hill,
the Civic's engine stalled, the battery dead.
She laughed and said, "'Guess we're stuck here for good,'"
and leaned her head against the window frame instead.
He feels the echo of that simple trust,
as her taillights disappear in a cloud of rust.

[Chorus]
The only set they ever got made,
a little weight of all the plans they laid.
The jingle of it is a kind of prayer.

[Bridge]
He knows one day he'll miss this exact sound,
the way they land when they get tossed on the ground.
That metallic clatter, sharp and clear.

[Outro]
He turns back inside.
The hook on the wall is bare.