[Verse 1]
Tuesday noon, breakroom light buzzing thin,
Derek's by the coffee pot, already grinning like he won.
He laughs at my idea in the meeting, calls it "cute,"
leaves his mug ring on my paperwork like proof.
I could clock him with the stapler, Lord knows I've pictured it,
but rent's due and the cubicle wall's only cardboard-thick.
So I nod, say "good one," pour my cup, and go,
carry the static down the hallway, slow.
Eight hours, five days, same fluorescent war,
nobody's throwing punches, nobody's keeping score —
we just circle wide, polite as strangers at a wake,
calling it peace 'cause neither wants the earthquake.
[Chorus]
We don't like each other, we just share the room,
holding quiet like a candle so the whole place don't go boom.
We don't like each other, we just share the room,
keeping still enough to let the Tuesday pass real soon.
[Verse 2]
My sister told me something at her kitchen table once,
stirring sugar in her coffee like she's stirring up some sense:
"You don't gotta love the weather to still bring your umbrella."
Said find one human thing in the person you can't stand —
maybe Derek's loud 'cause nobody at home claps for his plans.
Doesn't make the coffee ring okay, doesn't owe him my respect,
but I started saying morning instead of holding my breath.
Small thing — I let his bad joke land instead of correcting it,
started leaving first on Fridays 'stead of perfecting it.
Told my sister on the phone, "equanimity's" the word,
staying calm and steady-footed even when the room feels stirred.
That's the only trick I've got, and most days it's enough.
[Bridge]
Won't pretend the asperity, that sharp edge, ever melts,
some folks you just manage, you don't heal what never felt.
Still get that tight jaw Tuesdays, still bite down on what I'd say —
the truce holds the ceiling up, it doesn't change the weather's way.
[Verse 3]
Years from now when this job's just a story I tell,
I won't miss the fluorescent hum or the burnt coffee smell.
But maybe I'll remember how two stubborn people found
a way to share the same ground without tearing the whole thing down.
Not friends, not enemies, just two names on a shift,
proof that a truce can be a muscle, earned, and not some gift.
Derek'll still be Derek, loud and sure he's always right,
and I'll still bite my tongue and let the quiet win the fight —
'cause some wars don't need winning, just a way to coexist,
and that's the kind of peace that somehow made my short list.
[Chorus]
We don't like each other, we just share the room,
holding quiet like a candle so the whole place don't go boom.
We don't like each other, we just share the room,
keeping still enough to let the Tuesday pass real soon.
[Chorus]
We don't like each other, we just share the room,
holding quiet like a candle so the whole place don't go boom.
We don't like each other, we just share the room,
keeping still enough to let the Tuesday pass real soon.