Warped Grain

[Verse 1]
Yo, it's Mac. Uh… four-thirteen on a Tuesday, smell of sawdust in the air.
Staring at this chair leg, trying to make the pieces pair.
Thought of you, that summer on Dauphine street, trying to build that bookshelf flat.
You said, "Measure twice, cut once, man, life is simpler than that."
But this grain is warped, see? It fights the saw, it wants to split.
And I got this feeling that's the only metaphor that seems to fit.
We drew the plans up on a napkin, swore the joinery was tight.
Now I'm sittin' in the quiet, underneath a single light.

[Verse 2]
And look, I'm not trying to make this heavy, it's just a call to check your pulse.
Heard you got that promotion, man, congrats on the results.
It's just… the blueprint feels ancient, you know? A language I don't speak.
The right angles went crooked somewhere in the middle of the week.
I'm still sanding down the edges, tryna make the finish clean,
But you can't hide a warped board, you can only hide the scenes
where the pressure clamps all slipped and the glue just didn't hold.
A story in the stress cracks, getting bitter, getting old.

[Verse 3]
I'm probably talking to your voicemail, probably out with your new crew.
That's cool, man, for real, I get it. Nothing's ever really new.
Just the same old wood and nails, just a different set of hands
To build a table strong enough to hold up all your plans.
Anyway. I'm rambling. The condensation on the glass is thick.
My shift starts in a few, gotta make the bitters kick.
Just… hit me back. Or don't. Whatever works. Stay good.
Just felt like we built something that was supposed to be understood.

(3-second pause of silence)

[Coda]
Shit… Is this still on? I just— I miss my fucking friend.