Stress Test

[Verse 1]
The last-call light hits the ice in her Schweppes now, you should probably make your move.
But you're tracing the scars on the bar top, with nothing left here to prove.
The hum from the breaker box sounds like a warning you already heard in your sleep,
She's got that same quiet in her hands, a promise you know you can't keep.
It's 4AM on a Tuesday, feels exactly like last year's collapse.
You're checking schematics inside of your head, retracing the lines on the maps.
The wiring's fried, the copper is stripped, a flicker is all you can trust.
The smell of the ozone from rain on the street is turning your confidence to rust.

[Chorus]
This is the stress test, hand on the rebar, see if it holds.
Another foundation poured in the dark, a story that's never been told.
Is it built for the weather or just for the moment, the first hairline crack in the paint?
This is the stress test, feeling for faults, and praying to God that it ain't.

[Verse 2]
You ask for the time like your phone isn't burning a hole through your jeans.
She smiles and the whole damn room just rearranges to fit what it means.
She said, "You look tired," and she meant it sweet, not a judgment, a simple report.
A line from a logbook you can't seem to close, a different and dangerous sort.
Her jacket smells just like the MARTA train air, but something else, too, underneath.
You're running diagnostics on every last word, just gritting it out through your teeth.
This ain't like Simone, not the fire, the rage, just a low, steady, temperate hum.
A different voltage, a different gauge, just waiting for your hands to go numb.

[Bridge]
(Drums and Vocal only)
Check one: the exit's clear.
Check two: the static you hear.
Check three: that fault-line drawn.
Check four: you gotta move on.

[Outro]
The storm finally breaks on the Buford Highway asphalt.
And you're walking away 'cause it's always your fault.