A coffee machine left in a kitchen after a divorce speaks quietly about one-cup mornings, boxes crossing the floor, and the space left beside the drip.
A countertop coffee machine remains in the kitchen after the boxes are gone. It remembers the first cup, the blue mug, and the small change from two places at the counter to one.
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
I kept the counter warm at six
When winter pressed against the glass
Your hand would find my little switch
Before the hallway light came on
The blue mug waited by my side
A silver spoon inside the sink
You poured the first one black and slow
Then added milk without a sound
[Chorus]
I still know the sound of one cup
Settling under the silver spout
I still leave room beside the drip
For a hand that is not reaching now
I do not ask where the other went
I hold the water, heat the ground
One cup, one light, one quiet room
And the small red switch still glowing
[Verse 2]
In April, boxes crossed the floor
The table went before the chairs
You took the blue mug and the keys
And left your fingerprints on me
The paper on the refrigerator
Lost its corner to the steam
Someone wrote a number underneath
Then crossed it out and left the room
[Chorus]
I still know the sound of one cup
Settling under the silver spout
I still leave room beside the drip
For a hand that is not reaching now
I do not ask where the other went
I hold the water, heat the ground
One cup, one light, one quiet room
And the small red switch still glowing
[Verse 3]
A week went by, then someone came
To clear the shelves above the sink
They lifted me by both my sides
And set me down beside the door
There is a little dust in here
It gathers where the filter sits
I taste the old dark roast at night
When the pipes begin to settle
[Bridge]
I was never built to keep a promise
I have no mouth to make one with
I heat the water when you press me
I cool down when the room goes dim
If you have found another kitchen
With a window facing east
Leave a little space beside your cup
That is all I ever need
[Final Chorus]
I still know the sound of one cup
Settling under the silver spout
I still leave room beside the drip
For a hand that is not reaching now
I do not ask where the other went
I hold the water, heat the ground
One cup, one light, one quiet room
And the small red switch still glowing
[Outro]
If you come back for the last small things
I will be where you left me
The counter cold, the cord wound up
The little red light waiting