[Intro: felt piano, kitchen fan hum] Last plate What you want? [Hook] What you want on your last plate? I don't ask what you did, I don't give a damn who you hate Write it on the slip, I'll make it 'fore it's too late I'll cook it like your mama, 'cause it's your last plate [Verse 1] Twenty years in a kitchen with a fence for a view Hairnet, white shoes, and a state-issue spoon Most days, slop, I'm feedin' twelve hundred Powdered eggs, bread gray, and nobody wonder But a few times a year comes a slip on a tray Name and a number and a meal and a day Number six wanted grilled cheese cut in triangles Like his little girl did it, so I cut it at angles Number twelve wanted nothin', just a glass of cold milk Said it tasted like a morning 'fore his life got spilt Number nineteen, gumbo, said his grandmama made it Said I got it all wrong, then he cleaned it and he praised it I don't read the file, I don't watch the news I just crack every egg like it's the last one they lose [Hook] What you want on your last plate? I don't ask what you did, I don't give a damn who you hate Write it on the slip, I'll make it 'fore it's too late I'll cook it like your mama, 'cause it's your last plate [Verse 2: drums drop out, piano and cello] Number twenty-seven came on a Thursday in May Twenty-two years old, and the slip didn't say Steak or a lobster or a burger and fries Said "birthday cake," and that was it, and I cried Guard said, "He never had one, ask him, he'll tell you" Group home to group home, nobody made him one, it's true So I baked it from scratch, yellow cake, chocolate top Wrote his name in blue 'cause they said blue was his spot One candle, no lighter, guards said it's a rule So I lit it on the stove and I walked it through the hall like a jewel He blew it out slow and he closed both eyes Never asked what he wished for, I already know why [Beat Switch: heavy drums slam back, strings lift] Six years later, a lab in the city Pulled a box off a shelf, and the truth came out gritty Wasn't him, wasn't ever, wrong man, wrong place They sent a letter to a cemetery, sorry for the case State said "regret," and a lawyer said "error" I still see him in the steel of the counter like a mirror Frostin' on his lip while he's sayin' "thank you, sir" Twenty-two years old, that's the one I can't blur Every plate since then got a weight in my wrist Every slip on the tray got a face I can't miss [Verse 3: half-time, piano alone, then drums] Number thirty-two came on a Monday in fall I set the slip on the counter, and I didn't move at all Hung my apron on the hook, left my hairnet on the tray Told the captain, "Find a cook," and I walked out of the gate Fed thirty-one men, and I fed 'em like my own Somebody gotta stop servin' it, so let it eat alone [Final Hook: strings full, drums heavy] What you want on your last plate? I don't cook for the state, I don't cook for the date Find another pair of hands, I done carried my weight I cooked it like your mama, that was my last plate [Outro: kitchen fan, piano fades] Last plate Clean Lights off
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