🇺🇸 Foolish Things

Lyrics: Caronte 2025 Youtube: Inoxidables Podcast Podcast: go.ivoox.com/sq/2330386 The elevator still hums our old floor number, Your laugh trapped in chrome buttons I fumble... Cigarette butts write braille on the fire escape, A love song in ash we both helped create... These foolish things, the clock's crooked hands, Your half-moon imprint where the taxi cab stands... We tango with shadows in 6/8 time, Two ghosts waltzing through this bourbon-drenched rhyme... The diner's neon still bleeds Closed in reverse, Our last argument plays like some cursed rehearsal... The jukebox eats quarters but spits out your name, A nickelodeon dirge to this endless grey flame... These foolish things, the rain's morse code, Your scarf left to choke the rearview mirror's cold... We foxtrot through puddles that mirror the stars, A sidewalk astronomy of old battlefield scars... The city exhales in cymbaline breath, A paradiddle requiem for our rhythmless death... Traffic lights blink through the downpour's wet veil— Green meant "go", but we both chose to fail... These foolish things, the subway's low moan, Your face in the steam rising off midnight's third phone... We rumba through ruins where love went to rust, Two alchemists turning our gold back to dust... The elevator still hums... still hums...