Dead Latch

[Verse 1]
Esther pins the deed to the fridge with a magnet from Margate,
Right beside the 'Notice of Consultation'—final stage.
October air tastes of diesel, the end of the line,
She paid her life in sixty-pence pieces, every dime.
Fought the damp with bleach and prayer for thirty-seven years,
Now the freehold's hers, a victory whispered through her tears.
But the paper feels thin and the ink is looking faded,
Like owning the last branch on a tree that's been degraded.

[Chorus]
Got the key to a door they already took off the frame.
Got the title and deeds to a whispered, forgotten name.
It's a concrete kingdom, twenty floors of falling grace,
She won the war for a post code they're planning to erase.

[Verse 2]
A porcelain bird with a crack running through its wing.
The TV remote wrapped in cling film since the spring.
A stack of Sunday supplements, the crosswords filled in blue.
One photo of a man in a suit, shiny, almost new.
An unread library book, 'The Lonely Londoners'.
The brand new Yale lock, still in its plastic, full of promisers.
On the formica table, a half-drunk cup of tea,
And a letter from the council that starts with 'Regrettably...'.

[Chorus]
Got the key to a door they already took off the frame.
Got the title and deeds to a whispered, forgotten name.
It's a concrete kingdom, shadowed by a property crane,
She won the war for a memory the city can't contain.

[Bridge]
"A foothold on the ladder," the man from the council said.
The rungs are made of dust, mate, the promises are dead.
He sold her on a future, a ninety-nine year lease,
But the concrete's got a cancer they're calling a masterpiece.

[Chorus]
Got the key to a door they already took off the frame.
Got the title and deeds to a number, not a name.
It's a concrete kingdom, where the roots can't find a place,
She won the war for a ghost inside an empty space.

[Outro]
The key is cold in her palm, it's got a brand new edge.
She's the queen of the castle right on the precipice ledge.