Backdraft Season

[Verse 1]
The last two crumpled dollars in the ashtray of the Grand Am.
That August, the air conditioning died for the third time.
We'd drive to the Tybee shore just to feel a breeze that wasn't ours,
Smell the pluff mud and the coming smoke from the paper mill.

[Chorus]
We were just a backdraft waiting on a broken window,
Just a containment line drawn in the dirt.
Always tasting ash, tryna put out what was already cinder.

[Verse 2]
I remember your face when I came home in that catering uniform,
The smell of rich people's houses stuck to my collar, like clean, cold money.
You said, "Don't bring the fire home," but the house was already hot,
We had a water line from the last flood staining the baseboard by the door.

[Chorus]
We were just a backdraft waiting on a broken window,
Just a containment line drawn in the dirt.
Always tasting ash, tryna put out what was already cinder.

[Bridge]
The night the power grid gave out, we lit the last candle.
You whispered, "Well, what do we save first?" and laughed until you choked.

[Outro]
All these years later, I don't smell the smoke.
Just the ghost of the heat on my skin.