TARE

[Intro — quiet room, a low sustained note]
Bowl on the scale.
Press the button.
Now it’s nothing.
Now pour.

[Verse 1]
I know how the thing works.
I push the button every day.
Set the bowl down, zero it out,
Then weigh what you came to weigh.

Six-fifteen:
“Should I put your plate away?”
Six-sixteen:
“We’re nearly finished.”

I know how far the store is.
I know what “nearly” is.

[Pre-Chorus]
Nobody said hold it.
Nobody said wait.
I turned the oven down to warm
And ate mine at the sink.

[Chorus — barely louder]
Tare.
That’s the word for it.
Zero the container.
Weigh what you carried in.

Tare.
I’m still on the scale.
I just don’t count.

[Verse 2]
My case was by the doorway.
Rehearsal started at seven.
At ten past came, “You coming?”
I wrote, “Go on without me.”

I kept thinking one more minute.
Then I’d have too little time.
At eight I put the case away.
The oven light was on.

I checked the window twice an hour,
Like a window does anything.
Your message still said “nearly.”
I read it once again.

[Pre-Chorus]
Nobody reached for the button.
Nobody took my coat.
I made a place for your evening
And kept making mine fit.

[Chorus — low guitar weight enters]
Tare.
That’s the word for it.
Zero the container.
Weigh what you carried in.

Tare.
I’m still on the scale.
I just don’t count.

[Bridge — sparse drums; plain speech]
Truck in the drive. Nine-something.

“How’d it go?”

“Took longer than I thought.”

I know.
I had the clock.

I took the plate out.
Set it down in front of you.
Still warm.

That’s the whole receipt.

[Verse 3]
You told me about the rope.
You told me about his hand.
You told me how the light went
And you hung it anyway.

I said, “That’s good.”
I meant it.

You asked if I’d gone out tonight.
I said, “It got too late.”

[Final Chorus — almost spoken]
Tare.
That’s the word for it.
Zero the container.
Weigh what you carried in.

Tare.
I’m still on the scale.
I just don’t count.

I pressed it myself.
You never had to ask.

[Outro — exposed voice]
Bowl on the scale.
Zero.

Still a bowl.

My case is by the door again.

[The low note remains briefly, then cuts]

2106/7500

[Intro — quiet room, a low sustained note] Bowl on the scale. Press the button. Now it’s nothing. Now pour. [Verse 1] I know how the thing works. I push the button every day. Set the bowl down, zero it out, Then weigh what you came to weigh. Six-fifteen: “Should I put your plate away?” Six-sixteen: “We’re nearly finished.” I know how far the store is. I know what “nearly” is. [Pre-Chorus] Nobody said hold it. Nobody said wait. I turned the oven down to warm And ate mine at the sink. [Chorus — barely louder] Tare. That’s the word for it. Zero the container. Weigh what you carried in. Tare. I’m still on the scale. I just don’t count. [Verse 2] My case was by the doorway. Rehearsal started at seven. At ten past came, “You coming?” I wrote, “Go on without me.” I kept thinking one more minute. Then I’d have too little time. At eight I put the case away. The oven light was on. I checked the window twice an hour, Like a window does anything. Your message still said “nearly.” I read it once again. [Pre-Chorus] Nobody reached for the button. Nobody took my coat. I made a place for your evening And kept making mine fit. [Chorus — low guitar weight enters] Tare. That’s the word for it. Zero the container. Weigh what you carried in. Tare. I’m still on the scale. I just don’t count. [Bridge — sparse drums; plain speech] Truck in the drive. Nine-something. “How’d it go?” “Took longer than I thought.” I know. I had the clock. I took the plate out. Set it down in front of you. Still warm. That’s the whole receipt. [Verse 3] You told me about the rope. You told me about his hand. You told me how the light went And you hung it anyway. I said, “That’s good.” I meant it. You asked if I’d gone out tonight. I said, “It got too late.” [Final Chorus — almost spoken] Tare. That’s the word for it. Zero the container. Weigh what you carried in. Tare. I’m still on the scale. I just don’t count. I pressed it myself. You never had to ask. [Outro — exposed voice] Bowl on the scale. Zero. Still a bowl. My case is by the door again. [The low note remains briefly, then cuts]

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