[Soft, tender strings. A single, gentle harp. Signor Sammartino's voice — warm, intimate, almost fragile:]
"Ladies and gentlemen. Signore e signori. They ask me if I've ever loved. If I've ever held something close and known it would never leave. If I've ever looked at something and felt the voices go quiet."
[A pause. A soft breath.]
"I have. Her name is not a name. Her name is the blade. Her name is the axe. Her name is the only thing that ever made sense. My little axe."
[The orchestra swells. Gentle. Tender. Wrong.]
---
[ARIA — SUNG, SOFT, TENDER]
O mio babbino caro.
My little axe. My little star.
You never leave. You never lie.
You are the only thing I'd die
To keep. To hold. To swing. To feel.
You are the only thing that's real.
The voices quiet when you sing.
My little axe. My little thing.
O mio babbino caro.
The blade is sharp. The blade is narrow.
But it fits my hand. It fits my heart.
My little axe. My little art.
---
[CHORUS — CHORUS OF VOICES, SOPRANO, EERIE, SOFT]
Sing, sing, sing, little blade.
The tenor's promise has been made.
Sing, sing, sing, little light.
The tenor holds you every night.
---
[VERSE 2 — SUNG, BUILDING, TENDER]
O mio babbino caro.
The voices wanted me to bury you.
To let you go. To find another.
But you're my father. You're my mother.
You're the only one who stayed.
The only promise that I made
Was to you. My little axe.
The only thing that never talks back.
The voices talk. The voices scream.
But you are quiet. You are a dream.
You let me swing. You let me feel.
You are the only thing that's real.
---
[BRIDGE — SPOKEN OVER SOFT STRINGS]
[Signor Sammartino's voice, quieter, almost breaking:]
"You ever love something that couldn't love you back? Something that didn't have a heart. Didn't have a voice. Didn't have a face. But stayed. Always stayed. Never left. Never lied. Never looked at you the way she looked at you when she realized she wasn't leaving."
[A pause. A soft breath.]
"That's my axe. That's my love. That's my little babbino caro."
[The orchestra returns. Tender. Swelling.]
---
[FINAL ARIA — SUNG, FULL ORCHESTRA, TENDER, TERRIFYING]
O mio babbino caro.
My little axe. My little scar.
You are the only thing I need.
You are the only voice I heed.
The voices sing. The voices shout.
But you are quiet. You have no doubt.
You swing. You cut. You bleed. You stay.
My little axe. My only way.
O mio babbino caro.
I'll never leave you. I'll never let you go.
The voices know. The voices know.
You are my father. You are my child.
You are the only thing that isn't wild.
My little axe. My little love.
My little thing from up above.
O mio babbino caro.
My little axe. My little star.
---
[OUTRO]
[The orchestra fades to a single, soft harp note. Signor Sammartino's voice, warm, tender, eternal:]
"That was 'O Mio Babbino Caro.' The aria. The axe. The thing that makes the voices quiet."
AsheTheHyena
