Samsa
​charcoal. // X I X X
[Verse]
My exes? No, I don’t think about them, I shrink around them
I go to see my shrink about them
On desperate nights, sometimes I’m liking ev'ry picture on their LinkedIn albums
Just in case they’re single, I send winky symbols, I just hint it at ‘em
I’m not thirsty, I’m just countin' fingers at the drinkin' fountain
I feel like I’m drownin' when I introduce myself to crowds, like
"Hi; hello! I dig your sense of style
I saw your face across the room and grinned a while- I wonder, are you into smiles?
I pinned a pile of polaroids up on my wall, I wish you’d be in one
A ring or child or wedding hall or aisle, you’d wouldn’t see in them
I must profess, I self-profess myself a cinephile
I’ve got ev'ry single indie title soundtrack out on indie vinyl
I’ve got some on USB, just tell me where to send the files
If you think this is draggin' on, then you should read my Tinder bio"
I used to go to Central Park in cargo pants
And whittle bark off little trees like Leonardo to my heart’s content
With car keys from my '97 Civic on a bench
I’d grab my Metro card and clutch a cup of chocolate from a vendor cart
Then depart deep underground and check the clock and metro chart
That is where I met her, charcoal fingers, she was sketchin' art
My self-regard leapt twenty notches when she looked at me
I told her I wished I could etch the world out with my pencil marks
She held the charcoal out, our fingers touched and crept apart
And when they lingered, lightning struck, I know, I saw electrodes spark
And when she smiled a hundred volts, her pearly whites were thunderbolts
The room around us did a couple somersaults, the Earth had shifted off its poles
Another jolt went through me when she twirled her necklace
We were so electric, I swear the third rail was getting jealous
She curved a crater on the paper with the Conté crayon
Ev'ry stroke she lay spoke to my spirit like she called a séance
Her fingertips could conjure chaos
Ev'ry splash of color camouflaged into the page, I swear that she had lingerie on
I felt the rumble of the subway tunnel crumble up
She perforated scraps of sketches, gave 'em to me crumpled up
And bundled up and waved to me and walked toward the edge
I mustered up the strength to wave back and then dipped off of the bench
The train tiptoed to the ledge, its open doors demanded entry
She got in and whispered to me from inside that it was empty
And my heart, it started drummin', stomach, it started numbin'
The doors began to slide, and then she asked me, "Are you coming?"

[Outro]
Stand clear of the closing doors, please