[Verse 1] Our key lives in a blue ceramic dish, next to the receipt for the lamp you picked. I know which stair complains when you come home; I love that stupid sound. I also want some door whose number I don't know by heart. [Pre-Chorus] At lunch I buy the pastry with the salt and eat it standing up beside the sink. For seven minutes, nothing needs my answer. Then I bring you half, because I mean it. [Chorus] I want to keep this key warm in my pocket, want every lock in town to call me by a different name. I’m grateful when your hand finds mine at breakfast; I resent the spoon, the clock, the same old frame. If I leave, I lose the room where I am loved. If I stay, I keep inventing doors. [Verse 2] I order boots, then watch the tracking dot cross counties I have never bothered with. They fit like someone else’s good decision. You laugh; I spend the saved return on dinner. The waiter knows our usual. I like him. [Bridge] Sometimes I flirt with a life in a hotel bar, not even a person—just the unclaimed hour. I come back holding gum and your favorite pears, small offerings from the version who went out. [Final Chorus] I want to keep this key warm in my pocket, want every lock in town to call me by a different name. You’re humming while you rinse the cups; I’m happy. I’m bored enough to price a train I won’t take. If I leave, I lose the room where I am loved. If I stay, the key keeps changing shape. [Outro] I set it by the blue dish. I don’t put it down.
