Phantom Load

[Verse 1]
My floorboards are Swedish Birch, they smell of turpentine and cost
More than the last three tenants made in the August that they lost.
The walls are 'Chantilly Lace,' a shade of white that has no past,
A perfect market-rate container built too clean to last.

[Chorus]
I'm the clean right angle, I'm the load-bearing wall,
The blueprints for a victory with no one home to call.
The quiet hum of capital, the final closing price,
An architectural rendering of someone else's life.

[Verse 2]
He unpacks a single mattress, puts a laptop on the floor,
Stares at the empty duplex plug beside the new front door.
Then he mutters to the silence, "'Guess this is the satori now.'"
A key that turns a deadbolt with no ceremonial bow.

[Chorus]
I'm the clean right angle, I'm the load-bearing wall,
The blueprints for a victory with no one home to call.
The quiet hum of capital, the final closing price,
An architectural rendering of someone else's life.

[Bridge]
I remember kitchen Spanish, the weight of a sleeping kid,
The crack in the old plaster where a little bit of life hid.

[Outro]
The G train groans a low B flat. Recessed lights cast no shade.
A perfect structural silence. A triumph, newly made.