[Intro, quiet and offhand, an ordinary moment already passing] someone let me go ahead of them today and did not make it a whole thing [Verse 1, close and conversational, recounting rather than explaining] I had two items and a tired face they had a full cart and no reason to notice they just tipped their head toward the space in front of them and went back to looking at nothing I said thank you the ordinary way the way you say it a hundred times a week and then I stood outside in the parking lot holding it like something I had been given [Verse 2, same restraint, the small thing turning out to be larger] I will not see them again I don't know their name and I never will there is nothing I can send back to them no way to close the loop so it just stays open a small warm draft coming in from somewhere I keep finding it later in the day when I did not think I needed anything [Bridge, instruments thin out, clarinet and room tone only, one held breath] maybe that is what it is for maybe it was never meant to come back to them maybe it only goes forward and I am just the next place it stops [Chorus, warm and wide, opening gently, never lifting into volume] so let it stay uneven let me owe the world a little I would rather carry this than be square with everyone [Outro, gentle resolution, the light settling, full stop ending] tomorrow I will be the one with the full cart and someone will be standing behind me tired, holding two things and I will remember how easy it was
