[Intro: Alvarez, Older Male Spoken]
One roll of tape. Six cardboard boxes.
Forty years
does not pack evenly.

[Verse 1: Alvarez, Older Male Rap]
I came here at twenty with paint on my jeans,
One mattress, two plates, and half-finished dreams.
The rent took a third of the warehouse pay,
Not every last hour of every long day.
My wife chose gold flowers for curtains upstairs;
They faded through summers and smoke in the air.
Our daughter took steps by the radiator pipe;
Now one month remains to pack up my life.

[Chorus: Alvarez, Older Male Rap]
Forty years gone in a cardboard line,
Four rooms folded into box and twine.
Forty years gone, but the rent rolls on;
The listing keeps the number, leaves out who belonged.
I carry one bag where a household had grown;
The address stays put while they take my home.

[Verse 2: Alvarez, Older Male Rap]
Here is the kettle Mrs. Cole brought upstairs;
Here are my tools from repairing her chairs.
Here is one photograph: Rafi and me,
Leaning by the shutter in nineteen eighty-three.
Here is your mother with you in her chair,
Three candles burning at a party downstairs.
I wrap it in newsprint; the ink stains my hands.
The front page sells condos with rooftop plans.

[Chorus: Alvarez, Older Male Rap]
Forty years gone in a cardboard line,
Four rooms folded into box and twine.
Forty years gone, but the rent rolls on;
The listing keeps the number, leaves out who belonged.
I carry one bag where a household had grown;
The address stays put while they take my home.

[Verse 3: Alvarez, Older Male Rap]
The new room is forty-two minutes by train,
Then two flights of stairs that will trouble my cane.
No market I know, no doctor nearby,
No bench with the regulars passing the time.
Lila asks if she can visit someday;
I say, "Any Sunday," then fold tape away.
At the door, I unscrew my old brass plate;
Four decades of rent paid. I am taking my name.

[Bridge: Alvarez, Older Male Rap]
Fix every wire. Make every room safe.
Repair should not mean pushing old tenants away.
Let the pipes run clean. Let the elders remain.
A better front door should still open to the same names.

[Instrumental Break][Nylon-string guitar plays the Calder motif while brushes move from free time into the full 74 BPM groove.]

[Final Chorus: Alvarez, Older Male Rap]
Forty years packed in a cardboard line,
Four rooms folded into box and twine.
Forty years packed, but my name comes with me,
In brass from my doorway and one worn house key.
I carry one bag down the steps of this home;
My neighbors walk me out; I do not leave alone.

[Outro: Narrator, Young Female Spoken]
Alvarez steps to the curb,
shopping bag in one hand,
brass plate in the other.
