歌詞
[Intro] [Verse] The register hums a low E minor chord Dust motes dancing on a wooden board I’m tagging a coat from 1974 While the rain starts tapping on the glass door Ink stains on my thumb from the ink pad Sorting through the good and the really bad Found a locket with a face I don’t know Hidden in the lining where the seeds grow Fluorescent light flickers like a strobe Mapping out the fabric of the globe One man’s trash is my only view Turning old gray skies into something blue [Chorus] Writing lines on the back of a bill While the world outside is standing still Just a thrift store clerk with a heavy pen Counting down the minutes until ten Yeah, it’s receipt paper poetry Turning old ghosts into melody (Scratch: "Check the rhyme") (Scratch: "Back to the lab") [Verse] An old man brings a box of silver spoons Whistling some forgotten jazz tunes He says his wife loved the way they shine Now they’re sitting in the bargain line Then a girl walks in with a denim vest Looking for a heart inside a cedar chest I write it all down on the thermal roll Trying to find a piece of a human soul She buys a camera with no film inside To capture all the secrets that she tried to hide I ring her up and then I scribble fast Building up a future from a broken past [Chorus] Writing lines on the back of a bill While the world outside is standing still Just a thrift store clerk with a heavy pen Counting down the minutes until ten Yeah, it’s receipt paper poetry Turning old ghosts into melody (Scratch: "Check the rhyme") (Scratch: "Back to the lab") [Bridge] Maybe one day I’ll leave the rack And never have to look back But for now, I’m the king of the shelf Learning how to heal myself In the silence of the closing hour Paper scraps give me the power Upright bass walking through the aisle Making every dusty corner smile [Verse] The boss thinks I’m checking the stock I’m really just watching the clock Rhyming "polyester" with "ancestor" While I act like a quiet sequester Lights flicker like a dying star Wondering if my words will go far Roll the paper, tear it at the seam Another day living the second-hand dream I fold the sweaters with a rhythmic beat Watching the shadows retreat from the street Lock the door and turn the sign to closed Another story that remains composed [Chorus] Writing lines on the back of a bill While the world outside is standing still Just a thrift store clerk with a heavy pen Counting down the minutes until ten Yeah, it’s receipt paper poetry Turning old ghosts into melody (Scratch: "Check the rhyme") (Scratch: "Back to the lab") [Outro]
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