[Intro — Solo Celtic harp] [Verse 1 — Close, conversational soprano] Dear you, the roof is leaking still. I put a bowl beneath the sill. The neighbour's child has learned to ride; You should have seen her father's pride. I bought the apples that you liked, Forgot, and cut them all in two. There must be something else to write Besides how often I miss you. [Pre-Chorus — Soft strings] I fold the page along the crease; The drawer has hardly room for these. [Chorus — Aching, restrained] Letters beneath the ashes, Words I couldn't send. Every time I write goodbye, I start your name again. If I read them to the morning, If I let the pages stay, Will I hear what I was trying All this time to say? [Verse 2 — Bare voice over harp] Dear you, I wasn't kind that night. I wanted sleep; you wanted light. We argued over nothing much; I wish I'd stayed within your touch. That wasn't all the love we had. There were a thousand gentler days. I'm learning how to turn the page Without erasing either face. [Chorus — More expansive] Letters beneath the ashes, Words I couldn't send. Every time I write goodbye, I start your name again. If I read them to the morning, If I let the pages stay, Will I hear what I was trying All this time to say? [Bridge — Unaccompanied opening] I nearly burned them in December. One black corner, then I stopped. There were things I wanted to remember, Even things I wanted to forget. [Final Chorus — Guitars and timpani enter] Letters beneath the ashes, I will read you one aloud. Every little ordinary thing I can bear to speak of now. There is room beside the sorrow For the life we used to share. Dear you, I loved you badly, Loved you well— And you were there. [Outro — Exposed, unresolved soprano] And one more thing…
