Intro
Verse 1
Ella Was A Bassist And Did Not Know It.
The Way She Found Out Was Like This
"Like This And Like That," The Radio Was Going Off,
As She Stood Behind The Counter Of The Esperanto Café
Verse 2
Laying Whip Cream Thick Over A Cup Of Hot Cider
Change Ringing In The Slammed Register
Crackling Noise Of Piped Heat
As She Stood Behind The Counter Of The Esperanto Café
Pre-Chorus
Her Coworker Wiping The Cappucino Whipper
With A Gentle Towel
Holding On To The Protruding Machinery
A Second Too Long
Chorus
The Music.
Entrance Door Wheezes.
Then The Bathroom Door.
Entrance Door Wheezes,
Huffing Delivery Man Drops The Package
Pipes Sing,
Register Slams,
Change Dangles.
Co-Worker Mixes
Another Cappuccino
Shoowhooshawashoo
Verse 3
Hiiigh Pitch Voices Ringing From A Table In The Left Corner
Someone's Hand Goes Up, "Check Please" "Excuse Me My Tea"
"Fuck Them And Their Oil"
Delivery Man And His Boxes, And The Boxes' Boxes Tumble Downstairs
Verse 4
Register. Hiiiiigh. Register. There Is
A Needle, Threading It All, A Hungry Needle
Pulling Everything Together—Slam—Like Joseph's Coat
As She Stood Behind The Counter Of The Esperanto Café.
Pre-Chorus
"Waited For Her Freezing,
Like She Was Some Kinda Of A Messiah"—
This Last One Was Actually Not Anything Someone In The Café Said,
It Was Someone's Thought
Chorus
Not Ella's Own
She Was Sure,
And It Was No Telepathy Either
Though Maybe Telepathy's Psychotic Cousin
Nameless Cousin—
Door Wheezes—
"Grandma Let Me Be
Completely Honest With You
Nameless Cousin But Known In Jazz Sweat
Verse 5
In Concentration-Plucked Jazz Lips, Corner Of A Yes
Suddenly Unfolded Table With Enough Room For Everyone
With Enough Room, Enough, Oughfff, Ufff, She Didn't Know It
Didn't Know She Was A Bassist For Another Half-Minute.
Verse 6
Till The Man, Whose Thought She Might Have Heard, Or Who Maybe Heard The Same Thought She Did
Or Maybe Heard Something Completely Different
But Heard It, With Heard Hearing
As She Stood Behind The Counter Of The Esperanto Café.
Pre-Chorus
With Shearing Uh Shredding Fingers That He Dangled Over The Table
As If Playing A Slanted Piano
Or Typing On A Rock Or Stretching The
Stiff Fingers
Chorus
In The Warmth Of Esperanto
With Its Slam! And Cappuccino
Shoowooshawashoo
Across The Noise,
Like An Octopus
Fingers Out
As She Brought His Wwhipped Cider To Him
The Second Cup Sat Down
Her Head Was Grooving A Little
Like This And Like That
As His Fingers Landed On The Table Beside The Cup
Bridge
Around The Cup
Kept Playing The Surfaces
Percussive, Silent
Across The Noise,
Foot Pressing
The Leg Of The Table
Like An Invisible Pedal
Riding Them Out
Of The Hiiiiigh And Register,
Past This Winter,
And Cider,
Which They Both Understood
Was Not Cider,
But Seder—
Pre-Chorus
The Order, Universal Order (Seder)
Of The Needle That Sows Joseph's Coat
Out Of Shreds Of The Micro-Cosmic Café
Reality
Chorus
And He Knew She Was A Bassist
And She Did Too,
Even Before He Said—
"Everything Is A Bass You Know,
And You Will Lose It Trying To Play
Or Grow Very Very Large"
And she retorted :
"Bass Is Nothing,
A Black Lamp,
But When You Hit The String Against The Fret
Blindness Becomes Hope, Which Then Splinters And Dies
And Then It's Time To Look For Another Note,
I Think, Though I Don't Believe We're In Disagreement.
