[Verse 1]
Tuesday night, chili's done, I'm digging for a home
Cabinet door swings open like it's daring me to roam
Avalanche of plastic, forty tubs and twelve lids left
Square peg begging round hole, story of the great theft
I find a lid that whispers "Cool Whip, 1994"
but the tub it used to marry walked right out the door
Snap one on a container, watch it buckle like a shrug
Stack 'em on each other, lean like a drunk uncle's hug
Every single tub's a widow, every lid's a runaway
I just want one match, not a plastic circus on display
[Chorus]
Nowhere, nowhere, not one lid that fits the same
Every tub's got history, every lid's got a different name
But we shut the drawer up tight and we call it fine
Mismatched and making do, one more Tuesday, one more time
[Verse 2]
My neighbor Dot let me in on something over the fence one day
Said "toss the orphans, let the single tubs find their own way"
Now every Sunday I pull the whole mess out on the floor
Match what matches, bag the rest, breathe out, shut the door
I keep a shoebox just for lids that lost their other half
Sometimes a dinner plate's enough, I set it down and laugh
Stopped buying boxed sets, started saving old pickle jars
Turns out that lid fits the pasta tub, I call that fixing scars
Not pretty, not a magazine, but it closes when I push
Dot says perfect's overrated — just enjoy the hush
[Verse 3]
Grandma left a drawer like this one, tucked behind her stove
Said marriage ain't matching patterns, it's learning how to hold
I found her tubs of butter, lids from coffee cans she saved
Nothing ever matched quite right, but nothing got thrown away
Maybe that's the secret hiding in the clutter and the mess
Love's not a perfect seal, it's showing up, it's doing your best
I think of Dot next door, and grandma's ghost inside this drawer
Teaching me that broken systems still can hold what matters more
So I kiss the lid that's lonely, set it next to one that's new
Figure out tomorrow what this mismatched love can do
[Bridge]
Still got three lids wandering, still don't know who they're for
Still a bowl of guacamole dressed in foil, nothing more
Some drawers stay a puzzle that never finds the piece
I just shut it quieter now, and call that enough peace
[Chorus]
Nowhere, nowhere, not one lid that fits the same
Every tub's got history, every lid's got a different name
But we shut the drawer up tight and we call it fine
Mismatched and making do, one more Tuesday, one more time
[Chorus]
Nowhere, nowhere, not one lid that fits the same
Every tub's got history, every lid's got a different name
But we shut the drawer up tight and we call it fine
Mismatched and making do, one more Tuesday, one more time