Mr. Designated-Driver — Five Hours of Soda

Lyrics

[Intro]
His fourth glass of club soda is sweating on a napkin.
The lime inside is tired.
He watches the room.

[Verse 1]
The music is a floorboard you feel in your teeth.
Kevin is telling that story again, the one with no proper ending.
Sarah is laughing, a little too sharp now.
He sits on the edge of it all, an anchor in a loud sea.
He's a participant, but also the shore.
The ice in his glass cracks.

[Chorus]
The keys in his right pocket have a certain weight tonight.
Not just metal, but a promise made to himself at eight o'clock.
Five hours of soda and watching the clock.
A quiet insurance against a headline.
This is the work.
The slow, steady work of getting them home.

[Verse 2]
One forty-seven AM.
The big lights flicker on, a cruel kind of morning.
The herding begins, a hand on an elbow here, a question there.
"You got your coat?"
"Where's your phone?"
He is the shepherd of the happily lost.
He guides them from the warm, stale air into the cold, clean shock of the street.

[Chorus]
The keys in his right pocket have a certain weight tonight.
Not just metal, but a promise made to himself at eight o'clock.
Five hours of soda and watching the clock.
A quiet insurance against a headline.
This is the work.
The slow, steady work of getting them home.

[Bridge]
The Honda smells of spilled beer and damp wool.
Headlights cut through a light drizzle on dark roads.
Elm Street. Parker Avenue. The route is memorized.
A sleeping head against the passenger window.
He waits at the curb.
Watches a porch light click on.
Good. That's one.
The car gets quieter with every stop.

[Outro]
Two-fifteen. The engine hums alone now.
The keys on the kitchen counter make a small, solid clatter.
He knows tomorrow he might find a stray wallet, a single earring.
Silent trophies of a successful night.
No receipt for the service.
Just the clean, quiet morning.