Five Points — Forks

Lyrics

[Intro — a bucket of forks hits the floor, a bright clatter, one vibraphone note]
(five little points... five little tines...)

[Verse 1]
Somebody dropped a thousand forks on the floor of the town,
every silver tine pointing somewhere, every handle laying down;
I picked one up and I looked straight down the stem of the thing —
five roads off a single hand, and a junction's what they sing.

[Chorus]
Five points, five tines, a fork in the road,
pick a prong, pick a line, pick a way to be slowed;
the city set a fork down right where everybody crossed,
and every time you choose a tine you're a little less lost.

[Verse 2]
A fork is just a question that you carry in your hand,
a handful of directions and a place to make a stand;
they say the road divides here, that the heart of it forks wide —
so I set my little silver down and I let the map decide.

[Chorus]
Five points, five tines, a fork in the road,
pick a prong, pick a line, pick a way to be slowed;
the city set a fork down right where everybody crossed,
and every time you choose a tine you're a little less lost.

[Bridge — the clatter returns, playful, hand-claps]
(drop 'em!) — a hundred ways to leave from here,
every prong's a platform, every tine a train;
north and south and east and west and the long way round —
it all comes back to the fork they dropped in the middle of town.

[Outro — clatter settling, warm]
...five little points... five little tines...
all roads start at the fork... all roads...