21 June 2009 3:49 AM
Nothing much, just words
Sometimes I'll hold my breath, squeeze my eyes real tight and count to ten, and hope that when I open them up again reality would fall softly around me, like snowflakes on a Christmas morning, and that in this reality you're right here with me.
Maybe I've watched too much television, to fantasize the day you'd actually come in through the door, bags in hand, a smile on your face. How the sky will be blue and everything so perfectly still the moment you walk through the door, from the business trip you were supposed to go for some two years ago. And you'd hug me with your right arm and ask how is everything, coffee on the table and some croissants, your favourite.
How sometimes I'd hold my breath, squeeze my eyes real tight and count to ten, or maybe hold it a little longer, because I know its not true, there was no one coming through the door today, no more coffee and croissants. And you were not coming home. Ever again.
Happy Father's Day, daddy.
I can't believe it's over
I watched the whole thing fall
And I never saw the writing that was on the wall
If I'd only knew
The days were slipping past
That the good things never last
I watched the whole thing fall
And I never saw the writing that was on the wall
If I'd only knew
The days were slipping past
That the good things never last
Sometimes I'll hold my breath, squeeze my eyes real tight and count to ten, and hope that when I open them up again reality would fall softly around me, like snowflakes on a Christmas morning, and that in this reality you're right here with me.
Maybe I've watched too much television, to fantasize the day you'd actually come in through the door, bags in hand, a smile on your face. How the sky will be blue and everything so perfectly still the moment you walk through the door, from the business trip you were supposed to go for some two years ago. And you'd hug me with your right arm and ask how is everything, coffee on the table and some croissants, your favourite.
How sometimes I'd hold my breath, squeeze my eyes real tight and count to ten, or maybe hold it a little longer, because I know its not true, there was no one coming through the door today, no more coffee and croissants. And you were not coming home. Ever again.
Happy Father's Day, daddy.
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play
