Take the Thank-You

Morning comes in on a walking bass, sunlight spilling on the kitchen floor, shutters open, kettle starting up, and the offbeat knocking at the door. No big speech, no fancy words tonight, just a drum, a smile, a room, a light. Take my hand, we're stepping out in time — this one's a thank-you set to rhyme.

You showed up when the week was running quiet, you put music on before the coffee brewed, you made room in a room that had no room left, and the whole day changed its attitude. Nothing grand, just the way you kept on showing, kept on choosing when the choosing wasn't easy. You stayed steady like a bass line under everything, holding low while the high notes danced free. So I counted up the ordinary hours, all the small ones nobody wrote down, and they add up, Amour, to a garden growing wild in the middle of this town.

Thank you, Amour, for the light you keep giving, thank you for turning plain days into dancing. I won't pay it back, I will pass it along — one heart, one drum, and we carry the song.

You laugh first, and the rest of us follow, you hold doors that you don't have to hold, you remember what I said last winter and you bring it back when the nights get cold. You don't keep a ledger of the giving, never ask me what a kindness cost. You just hand it over, easy, open, like a coin you were happy to have lost. So the drum keeps time and the bass keeps walking, and the neighbours hear us through the wall. If they ask us what the noise is for, we say gratitude, and that is all.

Hands up high, let the horns come in, let the whole street shake off the wearing thin. Every good thing you did in the dark comes back tonight as a bright loud spark. Nobody owes, nobody keeps score, just a lot of love and a little more. Amour, hear the rhythm say your name, steady, steady, never quite the same. Sing it once for the years gone by, sing it twice for the open sky, sing it soft, then sing it strong — you were the reason for the song.

Thank you, Amour, for the light you keep giving, thank you for turning plain days into dancing. I won't pay it back, I will pass it along — one heart, one drum, and we carry the song.

So the record's ending slow now and the light's gone golden on the wall. Take the last cup, take the last dance, take the thank-you, Amour, take it all. We'll leave the shutters open wide so the morning finds us here in time. Nothing left to say but this, and done: thank you, thank you — and the drum plays on.