Ghost Frame

[Verse 1]
The turpentine on my knuckles from that door on Bull Street
Smells like every crooked promise I couldn't keep.
I'm stripping you down to the bare wood, layer by slow layer,
Trying to find the good pine that I know is there.
My hands remember the weight.

[Chorus]
If I tear out the joists and I patch up the wall,
Do I still live in your house here at all?
If I sand down the grain, paint a different blue,
Am I still remembering you?

[Verse 2]
It’s been November since the last time that the plumbing froze.
You said, “It’s just a damn house, let the memory go.”
But you don’t feel the gristle in the floorboards underfoot,
Or the way the salt air put rust on every nail I put.

[Chorus]
If I tear out the joists and I patch up the wall,
Do I still live in your house here at all?
If I sand down the grain, paint a different blue,
Am I still remembering you?

[Bridge]
Maybe this whole time I’ve been renovating me.
Building a shelter out of what you used to be.
This ain’t your photograph, it's just a blueprint stain,
A map of how to stand up in the Savannah rain.

[Chorus]
When I tear out the joists and I patch up the wall,
I don’t live in your house anymore at all.
And I sanded the grain, painted harbor blue…
And I’m finally forgetting you.

(Music fades completely. 4-second silence)

[Outro]
But my hands still know the shape of the ghost frame.