Parquet Gospel

[Verse 1]
The salt from a February boot heel grinds into my seams,
I feel the first low-end pulse through my concrete beams.
You trace the isolines of scuff marks from last Saturday night,
A pencil sketch of motion underneath the pale track light.

[Chorus]
I am the fulcrum, I am the floor,
Take all your torsion and give me some more.
I'm your foundation, the parquet gospel you preach,
That moment of weightlessness, just out of reach.

[Verse 2]
He reads the blueprints of her smile from across the room,
She holds her glass like a weapon against the coming boom.
He says, "The whole damn system's built on a fault line, you know?"
She just laughs and lets the kick drum tell her where to go.

[Bridge]
Feel the communion, a hundred heartbeats in phase,
A temporary cantilever over the working days.
This is the worship, the sermon of the moving feet,
The sacred geometry of a syncopated beat.

[Chorus]
I am the fulcrum, I am the floor,
Take all your torsion and give me some more.
I'm your foundation, the parquet gospel you preach,
That moment of weightlessness, just out of reach.

[Outro]
(Music cuts. 4 seconds of silence with faint vinyl crackle)
(Beat drops back in, heavy filter, just bass and a distorted vocal)
I hold the weight. I don't bend.