Broken Watches

I have that picture of you standing holding an ice cream cone
And there’s a 1970’s breeze
Blowing your curly hair around like cotton candy
Your skin is soft and pale and I can almost feel it against my finger

I’m sure you’ve had your first kiss your first cigarette
But maybe you’d never flown in a plane across the Atlantic
I can tell you like carnivals and you were against the war
You had an older brother who went over you won’t see anymore

The cold cold war is all you ever seem to dream about
You wake up sweating through your tank top
Worried there’s someone walking around in the house
And you can’t seem to get yourself out of bed… I relate

There’s not a bird in the world you don’t know the name of
Though really you’ve only ever seen a few
You can still remember the card tricks you learned a kid
But you only every break them out at parties when you’re tipsy

Maybe you took a trip all the way down to Florida
Watched whales jumping through the air at Sea World
You saw your grandma Ida holed up in the trailer park
And pressed your head against her heaving chest you knew she loved

The cold cold war is all you ever seem to dream about
You wake up sweating through your tank top
Worried there’s someone walking around in the house
And you can’t seem to get yourself out of bed… I relate

I found your picture walking down the street when I was your age
in a box full of broken watches
I’ve kept you with me through these crazy windy years
I guess I like the way you keep time stopping how you’re frozen

Has some new worry supplanted those old dreams
Maybe I’ve passed you walking down these streets
Goddamn I’ve been grieving I lost my only human
Most days are a bear thick and consuming
But I still have your picture and sometimes it takes me away