Cold Chisel Confession

[Verse 1]
Hey, it’s me. The rust on your old Stanley toolbox is bleeding on the basement floor.
It’s… Tuesday, I think? Just called to say… I don’t know. I’m staring at the door.
Each drawer is a sealed-up room, the keys are lost, the floor plan’s gone.
My hands feel too clean holding this hammer you used to lean on.

[Chorus]
And it's just a cold chisel confession, a low-watt murmur from a forgotten place.
Some unspoken pressure building up behind my face.

[Verse 2]
Remember that summer, putting up the drywall frame for the kitchen wall?
You said, "Don't you force it, son. Just let the weight of the hammer fall."
This whole house is leaning now, a structure built on shifting ground.
And this damn phone just keeps ringing with that empty, dial-tone sound.

[Bridge]
(Tempo slows)
It smells like damp concrete and old 3-in-One oil down here.
I opened one drawer. Just one. And the whole foundation disappeared.

[Outro]
Anyway. Just… thought you should know.
Call me back.