I spent an embarrassing amount of time making this song today.
Trivia fact: I sang this song my senior year at our state choir competition. Gosh
Did you know my sister sings too? While I’ve often encouraged her to join me so we can jump on the Blood Relatives Make The Cutest Musical Groups bandwagon (I think there’s room on it after Oasis and Chevelle fell off) she has this thing called a Full Time Job that apparently just won’t allow it. Silly employment! Don’t people know there are better things to do than feed yourselves and pay rent? Enjoy this little ditty my father recorded while we were hanging with my cousins last week.
One of my favorite songs of late. It’s been stuck in my head for three days, so I decided to record it as exorcism.
Whenever I dreamed of home, I couldn’t paint the way
age would have killed the trees, time would have changed this place
I didn’t think to count how many wintertimes
had had their curtain call, still mumbling forgotten lines
Now every faded costume has been pinned out to dry
and when I called to tell you that I would arrive that night, you only asked, “Why?”
Here lies the golden grass, dry from the sun’s embrace
See how the cedar stump gashes look like a laughing face
There is a breeze that comes, but not quite often enough
to penetrate the dust with what could be called love
They built a sidewalk here, you say in April of last year
I never thought the city would go so far or draw so near
You say the next good rain might wash your life away
You say that heaven must feel just like a summer’s day
So you and I climb on a boat, stop up the drain, manage to float,
sail on a Lethe bored of its path ready to swallow us if we just ask.