Master of What He Doesn't Love

Lyrics

[Intro]
Changtang. The wind sounds like paper tearing.
And here, under a flat stone… your paper.
Coffee Carl. That's not your name.
But it's your truth.

[Verse 1]
A thousand white porcelain bowls a day.
First flush, second flush, monsoon flush.
Your notes in the margin, so precise.
"Astringent." "Lacks muscatel." "Full-bodied."
You were the master of the Darjeeling leaf.
Your palate, a calibrated instrument.
No one knew the ghost on your tongue.
The dark, bitter roast you craved at dawn.

[Chorus]
This whole book, a map of another man's heart.
Poems about roads not taken.
Lyrics about a love you can't speak.
And in the margins, your steady hand grading someone else's soul.
Can you give your life to the craft?
Can you master a thing you don't love?

[Verse 2]
Here. Rilke. You underlined it twice.
"I want to be with those who know secret things."
And next to it, your note: "The aroma of the other life."
You spelled it out. C-O-F-F-E-E.
A secret language in a book of secrets.
Did the steam from the Silver Tips ever smell like Colombian beans to you?
Did you ever break one of the horn paddles, just to feel something break?

[Bridge]
So you walked up here.
To the roof of the world, where the air is honest.
And you left this folder.
All the words that weren't yours, but held you up.
The beautiful cage of your expertise.
You set it down, and walked away.
Lighter, maybe. Or just empty.

[Outro]
I'm holding your heart, Carl.
It's just paper and ink.
But it's heavy.
Heavy with the taste of tea.
And the impossible scent of coffee.
Can you?