[Intro: gospel piano and organ, then the drums crash in hard] [Verse 1] Four-forty every morning, and the house is dark That was your alarm, that's when your day would start Boots by the door and the keys on the hook Flour on your jacket, I could tell without a look You'd kiss my shoulder, and you'd go make the bread I'd pull the covers up over my head Now the clock don't ring, it's been quiet since June But I wake at four-forty like you're still in the room [Chorus] Never was one for the morning Couldn't stand the sun coming up Now I'm a mourning person Up at four-forty, and I'm [Band hits where the last word should be] [Verse 2] Bakery's been dark with a sign in the door Closed, in your handwriting, leaning to the floor Neighbors keep asking if I'm gonna sell I can't bake, baby, I could never even tell A sourdough starter from a wishing well But I'm up at four-forty, so what the hell So I found your notebook and your apron on the hook Every recipe in pencil, like a prayer book [Chorus] Never was one for the morning Couldn't stand the sun coming up Now I'm a mourning person Up at four-forty, and I'm [Band hits where the last word should be] [Verse 3] First loaf came out like a brick with a crust Next one was a pancake, and the next was dust But the neighbors lined up like it's church on the street Paying five dollars for a loaf they can't eat Mister Ruiz came first in his paper hat Said, it tastes like Sundays, and I cried at that Got a girl from the high school working the till She calls me boss, and I'm learning it still Now it's two months later, and the crust is right Still not yours, but you'd steal the end and take a bite [Bridge: organ swells, drums pounding] Grief gets up early Grief don't need a clock Might as well put it to work Might as well open the lock So I tie your apron double And I roll the dough like you Every morning that I'm standing Is a morning I got through [Final Chorus: this time she sings the last word herself, full band] Never was one for the morning Couldn't stand the sun coming up Now I'm a mourning person Up at four-forty, and I'm open Turned the sign around on the door Other side says open, written in your hand [Outro: piano and organ, big final hit] Four-forty every morning, and the lights are on I'm a morning person now, and the bread is warm [End]
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