One More Song Before Supper

[Intro — Chloe alone at the family piano] Mama says supper's at six. It's five forty-three. That's seventeen whole minutes. That's practically an album. [Verse 1] I wrote a chorus feeding horses, Had to scribble on the sack, Got a verse while sweeping Mama's porch And nearly broke me back Trying not to lose a rhyme That showed up halfway through the chore. There's a bridge beside the chicken feed, Two lines taped behind me door. Daddy found a napkin in the tractor With “October tastes like rain.” Asked me what the hell it meant. I said, I don't know yet. But don't throw that away. [Pre-Chorus] 'Cause songs don't knock politely. They don't wait till chores are through. They show up when yer hands are full And say, Hey. I've been looking for you. [Chorus] Just one more song before supper! One more verse before I go! I've almost got the melody, And if I stop, I'll never know! Mama, keep the potatoes warm! Daddy, I'll be there, I swear! I got one line running through me head And another almost there! I know the table's waiting. I know everybody's set. Just one more song before supper— I'm not quite Chloe yet. [Verse 2 — guitar and fiddle join] Yesterday I hid behind the barn When I was meant to mend the fence. Took me notebook and me pencil. Thought the plan made perfect sense. Found a patch of afternoon sun, Got three verses written down— Then I heard me father calling From the other side of town. [Daddy, distant] CHLOE! [Chloe, whispering] Don't move. [Daddy] I CAN SEE YER HAIR. [Chloe] ...dammit. He said, That fence won't mend itself. I said, This song won't write itself! He said, Fence first. I said, But Daddy— He just pointed. [spoken] Absolute tyranny. [Chorus] Just one more song before supper! One more rhyme before the broom! Why's there always something needing done The minute inspiration blooms? I have sung on television! People know me bloody name! Why am I still folding towels Like absolutely nothing changed? There's music waiting somewhere! There's a whole world I ain't met! Just one more song before supper— I'm not finished dreaming yet! [Verse 3 — softer] Maybe grown-ups just forget it— How sixteen feels inside. Every hour spent on something else Feels like something being denied. When ya finally find the thing ya love, Ya don't want some of it. Ya want mornings. Ya want midnights. Ya want every piece of it. I don't wanna sing on weekends. I don't wanna write when chores are done. I want notebooks on the breakfast table. I want songs before the sun. I want tired from making music. I want hoarse from singing through the night. I want this to be me ordinary. Not the thing I earn if I've been right. [Bridge — piano only] And everybody keeps saying, You've got time. I know. You're only sixteen. I know. Don't rush growing up. I know. But what nobody seems to understand Is I don't wanna grow up faster. I just want my life to start. And every song feels like a little piece Of what it's supposed to be. Like somewhere there's a Chloe Who wakes up every morning And this— This is her job. This is her day. This is what she gets to do. [quietly] I wanna be her so bad. [Final Chorus — band slowly builds] So one more song before supper! One more chorus, one more line! One more scrap of something beautiful That started out as mine! Let the dishes wait a minute! Let the laundry lose this round! There's a song inside me knocking, Mama, And I gotta let it out! Someday I won't have to hide away Behind the barn to write. Someday nobody'll tell me, Put that notebook down tonight. Someday songs will be me living, Not what happens when I'm free. And I'll spend every day becoming Who I already know I'll be. [music falls away to piano] But tonight... One more song before supper. Just until I get this right. Then I'll come down. Promise. [Outro — family piano, distant kitchen sounds] [Mama, from downstairs] Chloe, supper! [Chloe] One minute! [Billy] Ya said that ten minutes ago! [Chloe] This one's different! [Alton] They're all different! [Chloe] Exactly! [Daddy] Food's getting cold. [Chloe] I'm coming! [pause; pencil scratches] Just gotta write this down— [softly singing to herself] “Songs don't knock politely... They don't wait till chores are through...” [Mama, closer now] Chloe. [Chloe] ...coming. [piano lid closes] [quietly] Tomorrow... I'm hiding behind the barn earlier.