[Verse 1]
Front door creaks open, that's atomic number one,
hydrogen's a balloon string tied off toward the sun,
step over the welcome mat, two's waiting in a jar,
helium giggling, light as whatever thought you are.
Down the vestibule — that's a fancy word, it just means entry hall —
element three's a battery glowing dim against the wall,
lithium sparks where the coat hooks softly hang,
four is beryllium, a gray brick, cold like a bank.
[Chorus]
Walk the palace, count the rooms one by one,
row by row till the whole wide table's done,
every locus holds a picture, a place, a face,
method of loci — memory built like a maze.
Front door to attic, eighteen columns wide,
a number pinned to each image, order as your guide,
lock the picture where you stumbled, where you stood,
loci simply means "places" — old Latin, and it's good.
[Verse 2]
Living room floor's got five clean through to ten,
boron's a broom sweeping dust round again,
carbon's a diamond ring left out on the couch,
nitrogen's balloons popping, can't hold in the shout,
oxygen's the fireplace, breathing, keeping the heat,
fluorine's the sting in the carpet biting at your feet,
neon's the lamp buzzing pink beside the door,
ten glows the number carved right into the floor.
[Chorus]
Walk the palace, count the rooms one by one,
row by row till the whole wide table's done,
every locus holds a picture, a place, a face,
method of loci — memory built like a maze.
Lock the image where your feet already know,
follow the hallway forward, watch the numbers grow.
[Verse 3]
Kitchen sink is eleven, sodium fizzing in the water,
magnesium's twelve, a flare on the cutting board's corner,
aluminum foil's thirteen wrapped around the roast,
silicon's fourteen, a chip glowing on the toast,
phosphorus fifteen, a match struck by the stove,
sulfur's sixteen, rotten eggs in the bag that never closed,
chlorine's seventeen, bleach fumes sting the nose,
argon's eighteen, the pilot light that never blows.
[Bridge]
This ain't just rhyming, it's a floor plan in your skull,
every cabinet, every drawer, a locus standing tall,
Level Two's the order, the number, and the room,
walk it enough times, you'll see it in the gloom,
close your eyes at test time, retrace every stair,
the palace don't forget what your mind stored somewhere.
[Verse 4]
Upstairs landing's nineteen, potassium sparking the light switch,
twenty is calcium, sturdy bones built into the banister's hitch,
climb further, the palace never really ends,
each floor holds an element, each element a friend.
[Outro]
Front door to attic, the tour never ends,
one to one-eighteen, elements like old friends,
build your own palace, any house will do,
the room remembers the element — and the number too.