17 And 53

You were seventeen the year your father died
He was fifty three when you were seventeen
In the museum where you laid your head to sleep
The artifacts were cold to comfort you

When you heard them fighting you hid in the apple tree
The branches broke their noise
When your brother studied at the university
You were left alone to realize

That while you were growing older she was busy growing older too
Ba dah dum, bah dah dah dah dum

In the summer when your father drove you to the river
He would sing so loud
Soon to keep his silence when you climbed through barbed wired fences
To get to the riverside

And while you were growing older she was busy growing older too
Ba dah dum, bah dah dah dah dum

And in february you were running late one day
And out the door you ran
Leaving left unsaid the things you’d soon regret not telling
Never knowing this would be your last chance

Was it fair to blame the girl?
Was it fair to make the child choose?
And when you stood next to the mountain
Did you swear you could hear him calling you home?

I am twenty two and you are fifty three
Only blood can tell
We are made up of strings and strands of dna
Dancing waltzes in our cells

And while i am growing older, you are busy growing older too
Ba dah dum, bah dah dah dah dum