My father was a paper plane My mother was a windswept tree My little brother's nearly twice my age He taught me how to meditate, I taught him how to read I grew up with a book in my bed I got these dark circles before I turned ten Heard my mother with her friends worry it was something she did To get such a serious kid But I've learned how to paint my face How to earn my keep, how to clean my k** Some nights I still can't sleep The past rolls back, I can see us still You've learned how to hold your own How to stack your stones But the history's thick Children aren't as simple as we'd like to think Before you came along I was a lone cub Fell in love with language, tried to tell the grown-ups About the storm clouds, the weather in my head Hadn't heard the word for melancholy yet Then you came in five years behind We thought you couldn't talked, turned out you were just shy Mom said it was serious, Dad said you'd be fine I thought you were the prophet of 1989 You were so tender we thought something was wrong with you So patient we thought that you were deaf You were so solemn, so tiny but so ancient Mom took you to see doctors, you scared her half to d**h And I made you a library
Of tiny books with spines two inches high You didn't say too much, but your smile Taught me how to quiet down my mind But I've learned how to paint my face How to earn my keep, how to clean my k** Some nights I still can't sleep The past rolls back, I can see us still You've learned how to hold your own How to stack your stones But the history's thick Children aren't as simple as we'd like to think You slept in my bed And if I kept quiet I could hear all the voices in your head When the wagon tipped, I prayed over your body I asked God to take the damage out on me Ten years later, he finally gets the memo Sent it to accounting and knocked out my front teeth But you came to and took my hand And held my eyes, and... Me and you had a long walk home So we decided not to cry Now we've got a grown-up love And I know that's how it's supposed to be Same old story, Mom gets Easters Lets Dad have Christmas Eve But I won't pretend I don't remember How unusual we were The little mystic and his handler All some children do is work But I've learned how to paint my face How to earn my keep, how to clean my k** Some nights I still can't sleep The past rolls back, I can see us still