Human Cantilever

[Verse 1]
The linoleum's worn to the concrete piers at City Hall,
We hold our paper numbers through the January pall.
The whole damn room's a testament to sag and stress and shear,
Leaning on the promise of another fiscal year.

[Chorus]
We're the human cantilever, balanced on a sigh,
Tracing all the water-stains that map the ceiling sky.
A schematic of the patience wearing thin and turning mean,
Underneath the buzzing of the isoline green.

[Verse 2]
The radiator hisses like a busted pressure clamp,
The air is warm and heavy from a wool coat, slightly damp.
Someone whispers, "Bet they break for lunch before they get to mine."
We just nod, another joint along the waiting line.

[Bridge]
But through the grimy windowpane, a single shaft of sun
Ignites a million dust motes, and for a second, we're not done,
A temporary structure, built of light and air and grace.

[Outro]
The plaster dust keeps falling...
Number eighty-nine...