Ordinary Monday

[Verse 1]
The static cling on the sweatpants you left on the bathroom floor,
the low electric hum from the PS2, settling a forgotten score.
I smelled the burnt-black edges of the toast from two rooms away,
the same way I did every morning of every other day.
"You burnin' the toast again," a voice from the living room said.
I scraped the char off in the sink, left the plate on the counter instead.
Just a pile of routine seconds, stacked up neat and tight,
under the flickering fluorescent of the kitchen light.

[Chorus]
Just an ordinary Monday, not a single girder bent.
Didn't know I was surveying the land for the main event.
Just an ordinary Monday, every minute in its place.
Didn't know I was drafting the blueprint of empty space.

[Verse 2]
The cracked vinyl dashboard burning my hand on the way to the store,
V103 was playin' that Usher song you heard a thousand times before.
Argued over twenty dollars, somethin' 'bout gas or a pack of smokes,
the silence stretched out on Broadway, a dead spot between the jokes.
Felt like a bad foundation, a hairline fracture in the beam,
the unspoken tension pulling taut at a structural seam.
Then you cranked the volume knob 'til the rearview started to shake,
and that was the whole apology, that was all it would ever take.

[Bridge]
And I got the nerve to be tender about a day that wasn't nothin'.
Like I'm holding a museum ticket for the calm before the self-destructin'.
Filing the paperwork on a feeling I didn't know I'd need to save,
a final, perfect elevation drawing of the life you gave.

[Outro]
The sound of your key in the Schlage lock.
Ten forty-two on the clock.