Water guns and foam darts, flimsy from the start, birthdays and super bowls, slow to depart- in the hallowed arch of the doorway, halo sculpted on your bald head
From light fixtures that changed with my mom’s style and aesthetics she divulged to me Tom- that you’ve battled several cancers and lost your mother-in-law
If I ever get back to Albuquerque- I hope you’d like to see me- just a room away but we didn’t speak- in utter disbelief that I’d reached the age of seventeen
What would I have mentioned? My opiate addiction? Spoken of selling pot, waning interest in science fiction- you’d might’ve disapproved but I wanted you to know anyway
Passing crushed lines of pills on phone screens under stalls, I was hiding from myself as well as you and my mom- an award winning performance couldn’t have fooled those that have known me that long
Should I ever get back to Albuquerque- I hope you can forgive me- what I had been I won’t always be- if we were strangers in this land I hope I could be a man you’d like to meet
As with all men we were flimsy from the start, a fraction of your grace in the paths that I chart would surely mean ruin for the chaos I will inevitably impart
I may never make it back to Albuquerque- I hope you all outlive me- I might not be the man I used to be- but I’m desperate to understand each ambiguous demand on the marquee
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Ishroyale Lyrics – Tom