Lyrics
So I’m the first one in again, with the quiet and the window
growing snow. When I hear the furnace rouse itself from its
slumber, somehow suddenly I know, as my eye stops on one
curled up in my lesson plan, that I’m just your little “&.”
When your voice springs from the intercom with announcements
and reminders and a prayer, I remember how you made me feel
I was funny, I was thoughtful, I was rare. But like the jokes
about my figure kids think I don’t understand, I know I’m just
your little “&.” After Christmas holidays you never asked to
drive me home again. And sometimes in the staff room I catch
your eye with “why’d it have to end?” But I know from how you
worry at your wedding band that I’m just your little “&.” At
the last conjunction, after every other “and,” I was just your
little “&.”
