BONES

My suits don’t fit right now

But then, you didn’t give warning

So I’m in a jacket and black jeans outside your mother’s church

on a day of mourning

The windshield’s sweating out the last muggy day of September and I can’t remember when we last spoke

but I’m learning lately you can’t run away from what is in your marrow, what is in your bones

Inside waits a family

I choose to never see

life’s circumstance convenient for avoiding

wounded hearts all worn upon their sleeves

They asked me here to sing for you, and I tried my level best to say no

but I’m learning lately you can’t run away from what is in your marrow, what is in your bones

So I decided that I’m done with running,

without yet knowing what that will mean

And every step I take with my guitar across a crumbling parking slows down like a movie scene

And now it’s time and I close my eyes and I’m singing as hard as I can

and I’m proud as hell that my mother went on that trip as planned

Your brother was my first best friend and I’m desperate to avoid his eye

And suddenly I’m walking back to my pew trying in vain not to cry

learning yet again you can’t run away from

what is in your marrow, what is in your bones

I used to think if I stayed away from our family’s more cautionary tales

It could stifle down the parts of me I recognize in their hearts were broken beyond repair

But it’s just as bad for me to hide from them as it was for you to try to pretend everything was OK

cause you cant run from what is in your marrow, what is in your bones

My suits don’t fit right now

But then, you didn’t give warning

So I’m in a jacket and black jeans outside your mother’s church

on a day of mourning