[Intro] (solo bowed cello, low and slow, 8 bars, rosin and bow noise audible) [Verse 1 - Female Vocal] (close, dry, almost conversational) My father sold the truck in ninety-four. The one he taught me to drive in, in the church lot, going in circles around the light pole while he ate a sandwich on the tailgate. [Verse 2 - Female Vocal] Somebody said the roof was leaking over the sanctuary, and my father is not a man who lets a roof leak. So the truck went. And then the boat went. And then the thing he had put away for my mother. [Chorus - Female Vocal] (nylon guitar enters underneath) Corban. It's a gift. Whatever you would have had from me — it's a gift. Corban. It's a gift to God. So there is nothing left in my hand for you. [Verse 3 - Female Vocal] They put his name on a little brass square by the door of a room he never once sat in. And when he got sick we drove ninety miles to the county hospital, because the good one wanted money up front. [Chorus - Female Vocal] Corban. It's a gift. Whatever you would have had from me — it's a gift. Corban. It's a gift to God. So there is nothing left in my hand for you. [Bridge - Female Vocal Solo] (cello and guitar stop completely — voice alone) He never once said that he was angry. Not one time. Not to me. That's the part I still can't put down. [Outro] (cello returns alone, unresolved, fades into room tone) [End]
