The B-side to zero ft-lbs [Intro — a voice from later in the day; bass holds one note] I believe you. Now what? [The bass begins moving; drums enter] [Verse 1 — controlled, road-worn] I said “a minute” Like I owned the clock. Came back with a paper sack, Found you in the same spot. You showed me where the rope had bitten. I put the fittings on the floor. I should’ve called. I should’ve told you. You were watching for me through the door. The counter had a queue. The man took time to find it. Then I sat outside with the engine off. That part was mine. [Pre-Chorus — the riff travels and returns] It was right there. It was one town over. It was one town Two towns ago. [Chorus — broad, driving, frustrated] SOMEBODY HAS TO MOVE. Forty miles. One paper sack. Everything moved. And nothing’s hung. I said I’d be right back. The light won’t hold. The day won’t wait. SOMEBODY HAS TO MOVE. [Verse 2 — tighter phrasing] My phone lit up beside the screws. “Should I put your plate away?” I typed, “We’re nearly finished.” We hadn’t started. Anyway— You said, “I couldn’t just drop it.” I said, “I never asked you to.” You said, “Then what was I supposed to—” And I reached across for you. You tightened up before I touched it. Said, “I’ve got it. Watch your hand.” I stood there waiting for permission To do the thing you said I hadn’t. [Pre-Chorus — increasingly personal] If I leave, I left you holding. If I stay, I watch you strain. If I take it, does that mean You could’ve put it down again? [Chorus — heavier; the motion feels compulsory] SOMEBODY HAS TO MOVE. Forty miles. One paper sack. Everything moved. And nothing’s hung. I said I’d be right back. The light won’t hold. The day won’t wait. SOMEBODY HAS TO MOVE. [Bridge — guitar disappears; bass and a dry kick] “We still have to finish.” “I know.” “My hands are fucking burning.” “I believe you. Now what?” [One full bar of silence] [Lead — quieter] That came out like a foreman. Like I’d bought the hours you spent. [Other voice] “Help me put it down.” [Lead] I moved the bag. Opened both hands. “Which end?” [Full band returns at the same tempo; no victory lift] [Verse 3 — plain, physical] We brought it down between us. Your fingers wouldn’t straighten out. I tore the little packet open. You pushed the loose screws round. I asked you for the shortest. You gave me one without a word. We lifted on a count of three. I took your end this time. [Final Chorus — two distinct voices; neither swallowed by the other] [Lead] Everything moved. [Other voice] Nothing moved. [Lead] Nothing’s hung. [Other voice] Nothing fell. [Lead] I brought the part. [Other voice] I kept the mark. [Lead] I know. You held it well. [Both] The light won’t hold. The day won’t wait. [Lead] Put your hand here. I’ve got the weight. [The riff continues; no more chorus] [Outro — ordinary speech over a thinning arrangement] We got it hung after sundown. No one stayed to admire it. My plate was in the oven. The house had gone quiet. She asked me how it went. “Took longer than I thought.” [The bass lands. The rest of the band has already stopped.]
