Eighty-Eight Ghosts

[Verse 1]
My plastic case reflects the glare from Rue du Miroir.
It's just past four, the Tuesday shift-end drone.
He traces dust across my filter scar
And plays the chord that always meant "alone".

[Chorus]
He calls it a drop
I call it a fracture.
He calls it a drop
A coded disaster.

[Verse 2]
The Jupiler bottle leaves a ring on my shell.
The heat from his hands when he holds down the minor...
"You never throw anything out," you said. A distant bell
From the Palais de Justice, a faint reminder.

[Bridge]
I hold the notes you never got to hear.
The rust in the static, the hum of the wire.

[Outro]
His finger hesitates on the middle C.
Silence.