Part I (Mother):
Of all those gifts your mother brings
Like golden eyes or silver strings
And the mandolin that she plays around your bed
She’ll wrap green leave around your ears
To bless all that her baby hears
Till she cuts off the sound completely like she cuts the crust off your bread
And she looks like a queen and she sounds like a Siren
She’ll bury your demons when she lets the light in
She’ll teach you how to handle your money and carry yourself

Part II (Father):
And your father he’ll teach you how to laugh
They said he looked like Christ but he sounded like a Buddha
When he spoke of peace and truth and the things you don’t understand But he taught you how to tie your shoes and how to dribble
How to stand up and walk and, ever since you were little,
He taught you how to love so what more could you ask from the man His teachings a Bible that don’t weigh an ounce
Says: “We all have words that we mispronounce,
So do not ever feel better than anyone else.”

Part III (My Lover and Myself):
But now there’s nothing they can show you that you can’t learn yourself That’s why every time you wet the razor, you feel like someone else

So mother can you hear me? Because I had that dream again where
You fell into the ocean and you lost all of your hair
And I’m the only one who drank those waves until I found your body there, At least I didn’t drown again this time –

Time it traces circles, carves the freckles in your cheeks
You’ve yet to find the secret to how your river speaks
You’re a victim of your limits dear like your worries or your age
You teach a monkey to paint and the first thing he’ll paint is his cage

But now I live alone which is to hardly live
And all of the love that I find is the type that caves in
And your career’s a joke that you don’t care to mention
It seems your contentment has killed your invention
And now your only muse is a bottle of gin
But you find a nice girl and she squints when she smiles
She smokes cigarettes by the pack like they’re going out of style
And she paints her eyes ten shades of blue
With skins so pale you can see straight through
But you never look that hard because you’re afraid of what’s inside
But you love her and you need her
So you’re willing to pretend
That she doesn’t spend all your money on drugs, crash the car, come home drunk, drink your orange-juice and fuck all your friends

Now the change is so apparent, oh forgive me now I’m dying
Before we turn into our parents let’s be us for one last time

So Lauren can you hear me? Because I had that dream again where
You locked yourself inside a room and cut through all your skin and hair And we all must feel lost sometimes, even Christ himself got scared I hear
But the least that you can always do is try – just try

So Time it traces circles, carves the wrinkles in your cheeks
You’ll never find the secret to how your river speaks (like you said you would)
And now I’m tired of playing the victim, my dear, and I’ve grown old in acting my age You teach a monkey to paint and the first thing he’ll paint are the bars of his cage...

Now you think about your decisions and all those wasted years
That you drove around in circles doing nothing and you drowned away in tears
Give me a penny for your thoughts dear, a quarter of your fears that I can carry
Teach a man to fly
and he’d stay right here