Receipt Paper Prophet

[Verse 1]
The fluorescent hum over aisle three
Is the only hymn for the Gatorade you buy.
It's 2 AM on a Tuesday, your boyfriend finds his keys
In the pocket of a Carhartt jacket that's seen less rain than your eyes.

[Pre-Chorus]
You used to trace the seams on his shoulder
Now there's an inch of cold, static air.

[Chorus]
And I'm just the witness in the polo shirt
Adding up the damage, watching where it hurts.
But the total never settles, the numbers just blur.

[Verse 2]
He smells like rolled tobacco and the first sign of frost
As you stare at the scratch-offs under the acrylic shield.
He says, "'Guess we're out of milk again,'" and you look completely lost
Like that's the real fault line, not the one you've concealed.

[Pre-Chorus]
You used to laugh like breaking glass in the summer
Now your silence is a bedrock prayer.

[Chorus]
And I'm just the witness in the polo shirt
Adding up the damage, watching where it hurts.
But the total never settles, the numbers just blur.

[Bridge]
I hear the ghost of a freight train on the edge of town
Shaking the coffee machine and the drywall dust down.
I know that sound—it's the pressure before the ground gives out.

[Outro]
Your receipt is printing. A long strip of white.