Condensation Trace

[Chorus]
Anya, the salt shaker's got a new dent.
You only order one coffee, wonder where the other went.
The vinyl on your usual booth seat has a tear.
I just wipe the counter down and act like I don't care.

[Verse 1]
Tuesday, two a.m., fluorescent hum's the only sound.
The grease trap needs a cleanin', only ghosts are hangin' round.
You trace the condensation, make a river on the woodgrain.
Used to get the chili fries with extra, through the sun and through the rain.
Now it's just a black coffee, you leave a dollar on the side.
I watch you from behind the grill, nowhere for a man to hide.
You stare out at the salt trucks passing slow on Vernor Highway,
I just keep on polishing the spoons and doin' things my way.

[Chorus]
Anya, the salt shaker's got a new dent.
You only order one coffee, wonder where the other went.
The vinyl on your usual booth seat has a tear.
I just wipe the counter down and act like I don't care.

[Verse 2]
I remember that one winter, must've been back in '22.
The steam was on the windows, blocking out the icy view.
He was talking 'bout a job transfer, something down in Tennessee.
You said, "Don't you even joke like that, you're not gettin' rid of me."
And he laughed and stole a fry right off your plate and you just smiled.
Felt like I was watchin' somethin' sacred, private for a little while.
That smile was a foundation, held the whole damn building up.
Now there's dust settling inside a chipped and empty coffee cup.

[Bridge]
I flick a piece of onion off the flattop with a scrape.
This whole city's built on things you can't escape.
The shape of your shoulders tells a story I can read.
There's a word stuck in my throat, a bitter seed.

[Outro]
Hey, Anya... the coffee's on me. I just wanted to—