that song

when you were a babe, i guess you grew a tune
a key your guts would play in when you grew
and your bones would whisper when you blew away

before you were even born, you did whistle in the womb
all the doctors heard you hum in the delivery room
but where the humming did come from, none of them could say

cuz it was a low sound, and it was much too high to hear
it was all around, and it was right inside their ears
but if you were walking down your street and you heard that song,
would you remember just enough to hum along?

some old dust has drifted down, from the long line of restless years
always has something to say when i open up my mouth
just takes my tongue and throws all the rest of me away

so I just reach for the middle C, to break the spell between my ears
i grew a tuning fork where my wishbone should be,
and it’s so loud I can’t believe I didn’t know it was there

guess i was high strung. guess i was dumb and dissonant.
and still it’s unsung, and still i don’t know what it meant
but i was walking down my street and i met my song,
and i remember just enough to hum along

now we sit in different rooms, singing different tunes
but i’m pretty sure the one that you sing’s about me,
and i know the one i’m singing is all about you.

hmm.

© 2003 c holford

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