"Shells" is about something that looks the same on the outside but has lost what made it alive. The opening lines picture a body still breathing while the spirit has "leaked out" through a crack. The speaker seems to be describing a place or a way of life, judging by words like "closed, demolished, occupied" and the list of trendy details: skinny jeans, boutique sunglasses, expensive coffee. These suggest a culture that is busy and stylish but empty, living off a romanticized image that never matches reality.
The speaker sounds weary and disillusioned. Time slips by almost unnoticed, and every effort to hold onto something, whether knocking, scribbling, or sweating, ends up "none everlasting." Cities, love, and culture all get lumped together with "delusions of grandeur." The closing image of eggs is blunt and a little darkly funny: things crack, get used up, and leave only shells. The mood is bleak, but the tone stays plain and unsentimental.