Tunio
Unknown
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[Verse 1] By the fountain at the sunday market, I lay out the bowls in a row. Each one took a week of patient turning, Each one has a mark only i know. The blue one came from clay near the river, The small green dish from a neighbor’s land; I tell their stories while the morning opens, And watch a stranger lift one in their hand. [Pre-Chorus] They ask how long, i say, “long enough To let the shape come clear.” Then they turn it once and smile, Like they’ve already found a place for it here. [Chorus] I make it by hand, i make it to last, A little of the day in every line. Take it home, let your own story start; There’s a life in the grain, there’s a heart in the design. I make it by hand, and i’m glad that i can— Every piece leaves carrying a part of who i am. [Verse 2] There’s a walnut board with a crooked edge, Cut from a tree that shaded our lane. I kept that bend where the branch grew outward, You can still trace the years in the grain. A young couple picks it up together, One says, “this is just the right size.” I wrap it up and tell them where it came from; They carry off more than they realize. [Pre-Chorus] No two marks fall in the same place, No two hands work quite alike. When they choose the one that speaks to them, That’s the part that makes the long hours right. [Chorus] I make it by hand, i make it to last, A little of the day in every line. Take it home, let your own story start; There’s a life in the grain, there’s a heart in the design. I make it by hand, and i’m glad that i can— Every piece leaves carrying a part of who i am. [Bridge] By late afternoon the stalls come down, The last bright ribbon’s packed away. But somewhere a bowl will hold fresh peaches, Somewhere that board will see a sunday meal. I didn’t make the moments waiting for them— I only made a place for them to begin. [Final chorus] I make it by hand, i make it to last, A little of the day in every line. Take it home, let your own story start; There’s a life in the grain, there’s a heart in the design. I make it by hand, and i’m glad that i can— Every piece leaves carrying a part of who i am. [Outro] Every piece leaves carrying a part of who i am.
