Domestic

Lyrics

[Intro]
(a washing machine finishing — the final spin slowing, the click of done)
(piano — a bouncy rhythm, the tempo of productive morning)
(clarinet joins — cheerful, workmanlike, a melody with its sleeves rolled up)
[Verse 1 — Sisukiro]
(bright, amused, the voice of someone mid-chore who realizes the chore is the love)
You take the bins
I take the dishes
You vacuum the bedroom
I negotiate with the shower drain
About its life choices
We never wrote this treaty
It assembled itself
The way a river finds its banks
Each chore migrating
Toward the person
Who hates it slightly less
And the slightly less
Is the entire basis
Of the domestic economy
Which has a GDP
Of one clean apartment
And two people
Who can find the scissors
[Pre-Chorus — Both]
(trumpet enters — playful, a musical shrug)
And finding the scissors
When someone else needs them
Is a love language
That no quiz has ever measured
Because the quiz
Doesn't have a category
For: I put the scissors back
In the drawer where they live
Instead of on top of the fridge
Where scissors go to retire
[Chorus — Both]
(full bouncy swing — clarinet, trumpet, accordion, the band doing Saturday morning)
L'amour domestique, l'amour domestique
The love that takes the bins out in the rain
L'amour domestique, l'amour domestique
The unromantic beautiful mundane
You fold, I sort
You cook, I scrub
The choreography of the Saturday club
No audience, no curtain call
Just the apartment slightly better than before
And the slightly better
Is the standing ovation
We give each other
By not mentioning it at all
[Verse 2 — Orikusis]
(husky, warm, laughing at the truth of it)
The sexy thing about domestic love
Is that it isn't sexy
It's the opposite of sexy
It's a man with a mop
And the mop is not a metaphor
The mop is a mop
And the mopping
Is the most attractive thing
He's done this week
Because the mopping says
I live here too
And the living here too
Has responsibilities
That I have not outsourced
To your patience
Bà ngoại said a clean house
Is a love letter to the people inside it
Nhà sạch là thư tình
And the letter doesn't need a stamp
It just needs someone
To wipe the counter
Without being asked
The without being asked
Is the signature
[Chorus — Both]
(full swing — the warmest, most productive sound)
L'amour domestique, l'amour domestique
The love that takes the bins out in the rain
L'amour domestique, l'amour domestique
You fold, I sort
You cook, I scrub
The choreography nobody rehearses
That runs perfectly
Every Saturday
Give or take
The argument about the shower drain
Which we revisit quarterly
And resolve never
And the never resolving
Is also fine
[Bridge — Sisukiro alone]
(everything drops to just piano and her voice — suddenly tender)
I read somewhere
That couples who share chores equally
Report higher satisfaction
Than couples who divide them
By tradition
Or by gender
Or by whoever breaks first
And the sharing equally
Isn't about the workload
It's about the message
Which is:
Your time is not less valuable than mine
Your afternoon is not a resource
I get to mine
Your rest is not my to-do list's overflow parking
(accordion returns — gentle)
And saying that
Not with a speech
But with a sponge
At nine on a Saturday
While the other person sleeps in
Is the quietest manifesto
I know
[Outro]
(the full band — bouncy, cheerful, the Saturday complete)
(clarinet plays the melody — satisfied, job done)
(Sisukiro:) L'amour domestique
(Orikusis:) The scissors are in the drawer
(Sisukiro:) Where they live
(both, laughing:) Not on top of the fridge
(the washing machine starts again — another load, the cycle continues)
(the love is not done — it's never done — there's always another load)
(and the always another load is the point)