Receipt in Aisle Seven

(ahhhh) Dim lights in the library aisle

You tucked the receipt in your sleeve

Toasted a plastic cup to the tile

With nothing left to believe

And the books are watching we fall (we

fall)

No one's listening at all

Holy light on concrete floors

We kept the paper but lost the doors (ohhh)

But the ink didn't fade on the page

It was a confession,

not a sale

A quiet trap inside a gilded cage

Now we're both outside the pale

We keep the receipt (always)