17 And 53

You were seventeen the year your father died

He was fifty three when you were seventeen

In the museum where you laid your head to sleep

The artifacts were cold to comfort you

When you heard them fighting you hid in the apple tree

The branches broke their noise

When your brother studied at the university

You were left alone to realize

That while you were growing older she was busy growing older too

Ba dah dum, bah dah dah dah dum

In the summer when your father drove you to the river

He would sing so loud

Soon to keep his silence when you climbed through barbed wired fences

To get to the riverside

And while you were growing older she was busy growing older too

Ba dah dum, bah dah dah dah dum

And in february you were running late one day

And out the door you ran

Leaving left unsaid the things you’d soon regret not telling

Never knowing this would be your last chance

Was it fair to blame the girl?

Was it fair to make the child choose?

And when you stood next to the mountain

Did you swear you could hear him calling you home?

I am twenty two and you are fifty three

Only blood can tell

We are made up of strings and strands of dna

Dancing waltzes in our cells

And while i am growing older, you are busy growing older too

Ba dah dum, bah dah dah dah dum