[Intro] [Cold open: solo female alto, dry and warm. Pump organ. Two bars.] Family and friends Will bring you plenty of casseroles and crockpots, but no one brings food for this [pause] [Verse 1] [Female vocal only, close-mic, wry and plain. Sparse, lots of air.] Mrs. Alvarez had a baby, the whole street signed a sheet Seven nights of lasagna, a hot dish on repeat When Danny's father died, they came with ham and rolls Masking tape beneath each one So it would find its way back home [pause] [Chorus] [Female vocal only, a slow torch-ballad swing, slip-note piano, upright bass, soft brushed snare, a sigh of pedal steel between lines. Sung simply, like a torch song with a smirk.] Casseroles and crockpots For the baby and the wake Casseroles and crockpots For everything with bandages and tape, For any sorrow that comes with a name [pause] [Post-Chorus] But no one brings food for this [pause] [Verse 2] [Same voice, even quieter. Pump organ only.] Three weeks on the couch in yesterday's clothes The sink a quiet crowd of cups Her phone says fine Her phone says busy But the street goes on being kind To only what it can see [pause] [Chorus] [Same as before, but a close-harmony female trio softly echoes "Casseroles!" on the title phrase.] Casseroles and crockpots For the baby and the wake Casseroles and crockpots For everything with bandages and tape, For any sorrow that comes with a name [pause] [Post-Chorus] But no one brings food for this [pause] [Bridge] [Voice alone, near-spoken, no instruments.] What would it even look like? A pot on the step, a knock, Then footsteps leaving Chicken noodle soup, With no question inside A text that says "I'm outside, Don't come to the door" [pause] [Final Chorus] [The same plain melody, the quietest it has been. A small congregation of three or four voices hums unison underneath, the upright bass joins. Still very low, still unforced.] She stands up Tuesday, Finds some flour and four eggs Bakes her favorite dish Writes her name on tape beneath And sets it on a neighbor's step [pause] [Outro] [Solo alto, spoken, plain. One organ chord, then silence.] So it can find its way back home And leaves her porch light on [pause] Thursday morning, the dish is back Foil on top, still warm No note, no question inside Her name still in tape beneath [pause] [Chorus] [Female vocal only, a slow torch-ballad swing, slip-note piano, upright bass, soft brushed snare, a sigh of pedal steel between lines. Sung simply, like a torch song with a smirk.] Casseroles and crockpots For the baby and the wake Casseroles and crockpots For everything with bandages and tape For any sorrow that comes with a name [pause] [Post-Chorus] And someone brough food for this [End]
