[Intro]
Ceiling. Science update.
The theory required testing.
Peer review. Literally. Peers.
I have reviewed the peers.
[Verse 1]
So I ran a fair experiment — accepted what I'd auto-swept:
Coffee with the finance one, the party with the lacrosse fleet
A study date that wasn't, dinner with the one my roommate picked
Full effort, open mind, best self, benefit of every doubt. Legit.
[Verse 2]
And verdict: they were FINE, okay? Fun. Cute. Split the check. Held doors, some.
But it's like touring apartments, ceiling — gorgeous listings, every one
Great bones, good light, new paint, tall windows, killer views
And you walk in and it echoes. Nothing living. Nothing moved
Their stories are all plans, their scars are all from sports
Their bottles have no stickers and their walls have no reports
[Chorus]
Unfurnished — beautiful and bare
Great bones, good light, nobody living there
And I swore the fix was find one my own age
But age was never the variable — mileage is the gauge
'Cause his rooms are full of stories, hers are full of moves and law
And mine — hold on — okay. Yeah. We'll get to mine.
Unfurnished. Everybody's staged.
Nobody's home.
[Verse 3]
And halfway through the dinner one, I caught myself deploying it —
"So what are you... trying to accomplish?" — his whole face went buffering
And I watched him blank the way I blanked, the way the mirror blanks,
And I couldn't even judge him, ceiling. I just paid. And said thanks.
'Cause it's not that they're behind me. That's the ranking I'd been running.
We're the same square one. I've just been reading someone else's map, and calling that becoming.
[Verse 4]
And it's not a years thing — proof: Jordyn furnished everything by twenty-six
And half the guys my age with beards and boats still echo when you knock
It's the miles, it's the reps, it's the negatives you lower slow
It's rooms you fill by living, and there's no delivery, no
You can't order it assembled, can't inherit it, can't stream it
Every stick of furniture is EARNED. God. Fine. I hear it.
[Chorus]
Unfurnished — beautiful and bare
Great bones, good light, nobody living there
And I swore the fix was find one my own age
But age was never the variable — mileage is the gauge
'Cause the fix was never find a furnished man to move into
The fix is buy a chair. Then another chair.
Unfurnished — for now. On purpose. Under construction.
Come back later.
[Bridge]
So retire the old theory, hang it next to the eyebrow flags:
It was never about decades. It was never about age.
A lived-in year beats twenty in the wrapper
And I've been auditioning tenants for an apartment with no chairs
Nobody moves into empty. Furnish first. Then see who stares.
[Outro]
Experiment closed, ceiling. Findings filed:
The boys are fine. The boys are echoes. So am I. That's allowed. For now.
Canceled the third dates. Kindly. All of them.
Bought an actual bookshelf Tuesday. A real one. Assembly required.
Obviously.
(...one chair at a time)
The_SCAR
