[Verse 1: Operatic rock male lead, thundering double-kick drums, huge power chords] Every night at closin' when the last of 'em are gone And the doorman locks the doors and the hall lights dim to one I roll my bucket down the aisle from the back row to the front Eleven years of gum and programs, every spill and every stunt Then I climb up on the stage where the famous tenors stand With a mop for a microphone and a rag in my other hand And I sing it, every note of it, the way they never knew That the man who cleans the house could ever make it through Bravo from the balcony and bravo from the seats Three thousand empty chairs and I can hear 'em on their feet [Hook: Operatic rock male lead, full band, huge operatic rock hook] Four a.m., I bring the house down Three thousand seats and not one sound Hold the note till the rafters ring Nobody hears the man who mops it sing [Verse 2: Operatic rock male lead, close and fully dry, power chords held back] My mother sang in kitchens and she never sang a stage Said a voice is not a ticket, it's a thing you have to save So I saved it for the hour when the buildin' is asleep Gave it all to empty rows, every high note mine to keep And I never told a soul, not the doorman, not my wife That the best thing in my chest only comes out once a night Encore, I tell myself, and I take it from the top Hit the aria again with nobody but the mop [Hook: Operatic rock male lead, full band, huge operatic rock hook] Four a.m., I bring the house down Three thousand seats and not one sound Hold the note till the rafters ring Nobody hears the man who mops it sing [Bridge: Operatic rock male lead, dry to hall, the voice opens into a huge concert-hall reverb, pipe organ swelling] Then I go up for the high one, the one I never land And down below me in the pit I see a lifted hand A bow comes up, a horn comes up, the pit lights burn Eighty players in the dark who stayed, and now it's their turn And they come in underneath me like the floor just gave away Like a whole hall full of thunder and the night turned into day Not a soul out in the seats but the whole pit's on its feet And I hold that high one longer than my heart can beat [Final Hook: Operatic rock male lead, full band, biggest operatic rock hook] Four a.m., I bring the house down Three thousand seats and not one sound Hold the note till the rafters ring Nobody hears the man who mops it sing [End]
