In My Own Name

I’m a note in a stack of cigarette tunes, A coat left behind in a room after June. The walls know my footsteps, the floor knows my name, I play like I’m staying, not chasing the frame. They clap for the glasses and polished expense, I’m playing for change and a little suspense. I’m earning a name the long way around, Not raised by the room or carried by sound. If I’m passed in the crowd, left out of the race, I’ll stay with the work, I’ll hold to my place. There’s a laugh at the bar that arrives on cue, Applause like a wave that never asks who. My hands keep the hours the band won’t claim, I leave with the song before it learns my name. They praise what’s imported, refined, and brief, I’m the card sent home with a folded belief. I’m earning a name without asking it back, No borrowed reactions, no staged attack. If the room keeps its distance, sets its own pace, I’ll answer in time by holding my place. Hang my face with the coats, set my hopes aside, Trade all of the echoes for one reply. If the band plays forgetful and the glasses all ring, I’ll pull one true note from the hush between. I’m earning a name I don’t need to defend, Not shouted at closing or sold at the end. If the night never turns, the lights never change, I’ll finish the set in my own name. I’m earning a name I don’t need to defend, Not shouted at closing or sold at the end. If the night never turns, the lights never change, I’ll finish the set in my own name.