Palatine Arch

[Verse 1]
(Sound of a phone ringing once, then voicemail beep)
Hey. It's the key to the '98 Escort with the Sabres logo worn smooth.
Found it in the pocket of that old Carhartt, a foreign bone in the proof
that I'm still here. It's, uh, almost four on a Tuesday in March.
The streetlight is throwing a weak palatine arch on the wall.

[Chorus]
And oh, the impossible weight of this little brass glyph,
Is the only thing holding the whole tectonic shift.
It’s a stain of pure light on the man I was then.
I’m just calling to say it. And hang up again.

[Verse 2]
(A small, nervous laugh)
Remember driving down the 190, the right speaker blown?
You said, “Just drive ‘til the lake turns to bone,” and the smell
of burnt sugar from the General Mills plant hung on the air,
a cheap kind of prayer on a night we had nothing to spare.

[Bridge]
(Rhythmic breakdown: percussion and whispered vocal only)
South Park Avenue.
Black ice static.
Your thumb on my cheek.
Eminent domain.
The click of the deadbolt.
One metallic grain.

[Chorus]
And oh, the impossible weight of this little brass glyph,
Is the only thing holding the whole tectonic shift.
It’s a stain of pure light on the man I was then.
I’m just calling to say it. And hang up again.

[Outro]
(Music fades to a single, clean guitar note. Voice is quiet, close to the mic)
Anyway. I just... I had to tell you.
Okay. Bye. (click)