The Tea Sachet on the Saucer (Teabag)

Lyrics

[Intro]
The clock in the kitchen said four-fifteen.
The light from the window was long and thin.
She said, "Would you mind, dear? The water's boiled."

[Verse 1]
I found the box behind the flour.
"Breakfast Tea," it said. A little paper tower.
Each one a square, with a string and a tag.
A clever invention. A little cloth bag.
I put one in her cup, the one with the roses and the tiny gold rim,
and poured the water over.
The paper darkens, the water closes around it. A fast brown bloom.

[Chorus]
She has her silver teapot, heavy and dented.
She has her strainer, a gift from her mother.
I have this paper sachet, invented
in 1908 by a man named Sullivan.
One ritual for her, and one for another.

[Verse 2]
She came to the table and she didn't say a word.
Just a small sound, a breath that I heard.
She reached for her pot, her own reflection looking back from the silver.
She took down the tin from the highest shelf.
Darjeeling leaves, just for herself.
She warmed the pot, she measured the leaves.
A little dance of hands and sleeves.

[Chorus]
She has her silver teapot, heavy and dented.
She has her strainer, a gift from her mother.
I have this paper sachet, invented
in 1908 by a man named Sullivan.
One ritual for her, and one for another.

[Bridge]
I squeezed my bag against the spoon.
A final, dark drop.
She poured her tea in the late afternoon.
The room was quiet. The steam made curls.
Two different ways in the same small world.
She pushed the biscuit plate across the wood.
"Have one," she said.
I took one. She nodded. I understood.

[Outro]
My cup has a string hanging over the side.
Her cup is clear.
There is nowhere to hide
the difference.
But the tea is warm.
The tea is warm.