Blue Slip Delay

Old magazines from ninety-nine

Folded pages passing time

On the blue receipt from the corner store

I trace the ink,

stare at the floor

Speakerphone crackles through the air

Your voice says you are almost there

Five more minutes, a familiar line

But the clock keeps telling

on your design

Five minutes away, five minutes too late

Sitting in the quiet,

learning how to wait

(mmm) Five minutes away,

five minutes too late

With a blue receipt and a paperweight

Fading light on the plastic chair

Static humming in the sterile air

Another page, another year gone by

No need to ask,

I know the lie

Just five minutes...

(just five minutes...)