Basalt Contract

[Verse 1]
The burner phone gets bought with cash down on Western, Tuesday, ten past noon.
The SIM card gets snapped in half, a clean fracture underneath the moon.
The old Civic gets a LoJack pulled, the plates get swapped behind the Vons.
The Moog gets boxed in bubble wrap, a low hum 'til the break of dawn.
The cash goes in a Folgers can, buried past the drip line of the ficus root.
The pressure builds along the fault, a quiet thing before the truth gets loose.
A clean slate from the sediment, a final entry in the log.
A skeleton key for a door that's locked, a prayer said into the fog.

[Chorus]
New name, new state, new face on the plate.
The tectonic shift, seal the personal fate.
New maps, new rules, new mineral weight.
Let the old world erode, don't hesitate.

[Verse 2]
The search history gets wiped to bleach, the hard drive gets a bath in bleach.
A clean sweep of the digital, the lesson that the elders teach.
The power gets cut at the breaker box, the water main gets turned off slow.
The heat of the third week of the Santa Anas, the only way the seed can grow.
A note gets taped there on the fridge: "This part of the story is igneous."
The deadbolt clicks a final time, the silence that becomes continuous.
The rearview mirror shows a street where every strata tells a lie.
A slow dissolve, a steady hand, a geologic alibi.

[Chorus]
New name, new state, new face on the plate.
The tectonic shift, seal the personal fate.
New maps, new rules, new mineral weight.
Let the old world erode, don't hesitate.

[Bridge]
That love was just a vein of quartz, a pretty flaw inside the stone.
A fault line waiting for the stress to turn a family to a bone.
That pressure makes a harder thing, a sharpened edge of obsidian.
The contract signed in circumstance for life as a civilian.

[Outro]
Let the old world erode. Don't hesitate.
Let the old world erode.