[OPEN] Found your key. [OPEN] Found your key. Kitchen drawer. Behind the batteries that fit nothing. [VERSE] You gave it me on a Thursday. No speech. Just: “Here.” I remember thinking that's how trust should look. Small. Silver. Badly cut. [HOOK] I've still got your spare key. Don't worry. I know what it doesn't open anymore. I'm bringing it back. Not using it. There's a difference. [VERSE] Walked to yours. Could've posted it. Didn't. Could've texted. Didn't. Stood outside with the stupid thing making a mark in my hand. Your light was on. That's information. Nothing more. [HOOK] I've still got your spare key. For another thirty seconds. Funny. A piece of metal can know a door after the person holding it doesn't. [BRIDGE] I didn't try it. Important. Not because I thought it wouldn't work. Because I thought it might. [FINAL] [Key through letterbox] [Male] There. [FINAL REFRAIN] No key. Hands feel weird. Pocket feels wrong. Keep walking. [OUTRO] [Male] Batteries are still useless.
