Local Order

Here's the loophole, and I want it on the record:

entropy increases in a closed system, sure —

but you'll notice that a person isn't closed,

and neither is a garden, and neither is a house.

We're open. We take in. We burn a star's old fire

and we build a little order in the corner where we stand:

a made bed, a mended fence, a language, a vaccine,

a kid who couldn't read in June, and can.

Local order! Local order!

That's the whole trick — that's all we ever were!

A warm pocket of arrangement

in a room that's going cold,

and we pay for it in advance

with a fire ninety million miles away —

LOCAL ORDER! Local order!

And it costs, and it counts, and it's paid.

Every meal you ever cooked was a rebellion.

Every time you swept the floor you pushed the ocean back.

Somebody built a hospital. Somebody wrote it down.

Somebody sat with somebody so they weren't on their own.

And none of it is permanent — I've been told, at length, by an expert —

(THE SECOND LAW, dryly) At considerable length.

(THE HEART, laughing) At considerable length!

But permanence was never on the menu, friend,

so don't you dare confuse "it ends" with "it's not real."

(THE SECOND LAW) Statement: the local decrease is paid for by a greater increase elsewhere.

(THE HEART) Yes! Yes it is!

(THE SECOND LAW) The universe is not fooled by your made bed.

(THE HEART) It was never trying to fool the universe!

(THE SECOND LAW) ...Then what was it for?

(THE HEART) For the room, man. For the room.

For whoever has to sleep in it tonight.

(THE SECOND LAW) ...Understood.

Local order! (local order!)

Build it knowing what it costs! (what it costs!)

Build it knowing it comes apart,

build it anyway, and build it well!

'Cause the fire's already burning

and the bill's already been paid —

so put a warm thing in a cold room,

put a warm thing in a cold room,

put a warm thing in a cold room while you can!