[Intro — Solo Piano, pp, minor key] [Slow, sparse piano arpeggios — single notes like footsteps on cobblestones] [Verse 1 — Piano + Cello, gentle] Nineteen forty-two, October snow, I walked through walls they built to let no one go. A nurse's coat, a syringe, a borrowed name, Each child I carried out, I hid the shame. I wrote their names on tissue-paper strips, Pressed them like prayers between my trembling lips, Then sealed them in a jar and hid them underground, So when the fire died — they still could be found. ✦ ✦ ✦ [Pre-Chorus — Strings enter, building] They took me in November, broke my hands, But names don't die when written in the land. They sentenced me to death — I smiled and said: "The names are safe. You'll never find the dead." [Chorus — Full Orchestra, forte, soaring] I am the jar beneath the apple tree, I hold two thousand seven hundred names inside of me. You burned the world, but paper holds the light, Every name I wrote — survives the night. I am the letter that was never sent, The love a mother whispered as she wept. I am the proof that mercy walked these streets, A name. A name. A name. That never sleeps. ✦ ✦ ✦ [Verse 2 — Sparse, Piano + Solo Violin, intimate] A boy named Aron, seven years of age, His mother pressed him into my hands like a page. She never learned where I had placed her son, The ghetto walls fell silent, one by one. I carried guilt the way the living do — I saved so many and could not save you. But every name I buried in the earth Was proof a human soul had given worth. [Pre-Chorus 2 — Dynamics swelling, choir enters softly] In nineteen forty-three they burned it all, But underneath the roots — I heard them call. Two thousand seven hundred reasons why A woman dares to live when meant to die. [Chorus — Full Orchestra + Choir, fortissimo] I am the jar beneath the apple tree, I hold two thousand seven hundred names inside of me. You burned the world, but paper holds the light, Every name I wrote — survives the night. I am the letter that was never sent, The love a mother whispered as she wept. I am the proof that mercy walked these streets, A name. A name. A name. That never sleeps. [Instrumental Bridge — 16 bars] Strings and oboe — mournful, searching; piano broken chord descent then rise Choir hums softly beneath — wordless, like children's voices [Bridge — Solo voice, bare piano, spoken-sung, breathy] They gave me the Nobel — sixty years too late. They asked me: "How did you do it?" And I said: "I could have done more. I could have done more." I dug them up in 1945 — Two jars, one box, the names of those alive. I handed every slip to those who searched, But most had no one left upon this earth. [Final Chorus — Key change +1, massive, full choir, fortissimo] I am the jar beneath the apple tree, I hold two thousand seven hundred names inside of me. You burned the world, but paper holds the light, Every name I wrote — survives the night. I am the letter that was never sent, The love a mother whispered as she wept. I am the proof that mercy walked these streets, A name. A name. A name. That never sleeps. A name… that never… sleeps. [Outro — Decrescendo, piano alone, ppp] The jar is in a museum now, behind the glass, The paper slowly fading, like everything that lasts. But if you press your ear against the cold display You'll hear two thousand seven hundred names — still saying: We were here. We were here. We were here. [Single piano note — held — then silence]
