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A STRANGER GETBMY NAME

A STRANGER GETBMY NAME

Dark secular Southern country/blues. Deep damaged male baritone, intimate and restrained, building to desperate near-screams. Tempo 68bpm, minor key. Sparse upright piano, breath, distant stomps and floor tom; build with tremolo guitar, bowed bass, handclaps and a huge raw gospel choir. Choir is his subconscious, not religion: “WHO DIES?”, “WHO LIVES?”, “TAKE ’EM, ” “BE GOOD, ” “BE FREE.” Beautiful but ominous, like salvation and a funeral at once. A broken man holds pills that could make him loving, trusting, loyal, fearless, driven, kind, free, a good father and husband. He desperately wants to become that man, but fears curing everything broken in him will erase the identity those wounds created. His family gets a better man—but is it still him? Southern Gothic, funeral blues, cinematic Americana, haunted acoustics, raw imperfect choir. No God or religious message. Build into a violent secular revival, then sudden silence. Existential, haunting, tragic.

Lyrics

[Low male hum. One piano note. Foot stomps far back in the room.] VERSE 1 I got a handful of capsuled promises Sweatin’ in the palm of my hand One says love like you ought to love One says trust like a better man One says get up One says stay One says quit runnin’ everybody away One says look in the mirror And don’t turn your eyes One says maybe you’re worth this life There’s one for the father I should’ve been One for the husband Who lets her in One for the temper One for the shame One that might make me Quit hating my name PRE-CHORUS And every one of ’em whispers— You could be good. You could be clean. You could be everything you know you should’ve been. CHORUS But if I swallow salvation Who wakes up in my skin? If the fear finally leaves me What else leaves with him? If I love like I mean it If I trust without chains If I wake up tomorrow And don’t recognize my pain Will my children get their father? Will my woman get her man? Or will a stranger hold ’em With my fingerprints on their hands? [CHOIR, low and slow] WHO DIES? WHO LIVES? WHO GOES? WHO GIVES? If I finally become Everything I should be— What happens to me? VERSE 2 Fear taught me how to breathe Before I learned to live Taught me everybody takes So you better never give Fear picked my friends Fear chose my fights Fear kept one eye open Every goddamn night Fear made me hard Fear made me cold Fear made a child Grow up too old And I hate that bastard But here’s the truth— He’s been beside me Since my first cut tooth So if I cut him out If I set him free How much of that fear Was holding together me? CHORUS If I swallow salvation Who wakes up in my skin? If the fear finally leaves me What else leaves with him? If I love like I mean it If I trust without chains If I wake up tomorrow And don’t recognize my pain Will my children get their father? Will my woman get her man? Or will a stranger hold ’em With my fingerprints on their hands? [CHOIR] WHO DIES? WHO LIVES? WHO GOES? WHO GIVES? If I finally become Everything I should be— What happens to me? BREAKDOWN [Everything drops out except a floor tom and breathing. Lead nearly spoken.] I wanna be kind without having to try. I wanna be loyal without asking why. I wanna be driven. I wanna stand tall. I wanna quit waiting for the other shoe to fall. I wanna hold my babies without wondering if they’ll grow up remembering everything I did. I wanna touch my wife without building a wall. I wanna live free. Goddamn— I wanna live at all. [Silence.] But these pills in my hand got a hell of a deal: Kill who you are for who you could be. BRIDGE [Choir enters almost like a funeral procession.] TAKE ’EM. Be loving. TAKE ’EM. Be true. TAKE ’EM. Be fearless. TAKE ’EM. Be new. TAKE ’EM. Be gentle. TAKE ’EM. Be clean. TAKE ’EM. Become the man you’ve only ever dreamed. [Lead screams over choir] BUT WHO THE HELL IS THAT MAN TO ME? He didn’t crawl through what I crawled through! He didn’t learn these scars! He didn’t spend forty years building locks around his heart! You can give him my eyes. You can give him my face. You can give him my family, my bed and my place. But if you bury the fear that made every choice— Will there be anything left that still sounds like my voice? FINAL CHORUS So I’m holding salvation In the palm of my hand A better father A better husband A better goddamn man Self-worth and mercy Trust without chains A life without fear A heart without shame Everything I wanted Everything I ain’t Everything I prayed for Without needing a saint [Choir rises huge] BE GOOD. BE KIND. BE FREE. BE CLEAN. BE EVERYTHING YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN. [Music suddenly cuts.] OUTRO [Lead alone, almost whispering.] I open my hand. Look down at the cure. And for the first time in my life— I’m not afraid of staying broken. I’m afraid of getting better. [Long silence.] Because somewhere between the sickness and the cure… there’s a funeral. And I don’t know which one of us they’re burying. [Distant choir, almost inaudible] Who dies… who lives… [Lead] A stranger gets his future. But he gets my name.

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