Come To Collect

Bill on the fridge

Teeth on the glass

Calendar bleeding

Through the months too fast

Dust on the shelf

Shadows in stacks

Every little promise

Keeping quiet tabs

Death will one day come to collect

Every debt I dressed up as neglect

All the calls I let ring out

All the love I lost in doubt

Death will one day come to collect

So what am I doing with what's left

Half-charged phone

Unread names

Old friends fading

Like a picture in the rain

Plans in a folder

Marked “someday”

[low vocal register] Someday's looking older

Walking my way

Not a warning siren

Just a knock at the door

Soft as Sunday morning

But it shakes the floor

If the end sits patient

At my kitchen chair

I better fill this silence

With something worth it there