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Mom danced on tables in '89
Hair big as the dreams she left behind
Now her laugh’s a ghost in the trailer park light
A flicker of neon swallowed by the night
We’re mannequins dressed in borrowed time
Posing perfect in a world that’s blind
The past is a jukebox stuck on repeat—
Play it loud ‘til the ache feels sweet
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Dad’s old guitar screams in the attic dust
Strings rusted with what-ifs and if-onlys we discussed
The TV still hums those black-and-white lies
But the screen’s cracked where her tears used to rise
We’re mannequins dressed in borrowed time
Posing perfect in a world that’s blind
The past is a jukebox stuck on repeat—
Play it loud ‘til the ache feels sweet