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Wednesday
May 30, 2012
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  >> Static Item >> Lyrics >> Family >> ID #1748114  |   Show DetailsPrinter Friendly Page Tell A Friend
These Next Four Years
Things I've learned but cannot teach you. I wish you knew, little brother. My song to him.
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Well, here I go

Running round through what I think I know

Leaving rubble and remains

Writing these lines

Another chapter’s at an end

Capital letter on the page that now begins

Now it’s your time.



Oh, I wish you knew

You’ll be brand new

after these next four years are said and done

And Oh, wish I could tell

That although you think it’s hell

You’ll come on through

But all that I can think to say

Is “I love you.”



I leave this place behind my heels

As you softly poke your head

Through the front door.

I look back. Wish I could say

Where to go or stay away

How to adjust your sails

So that you see home

Waiting on the shore

And keep you heading towards your head

Instead of up from where you’re lying

On the floor

But I can’t say more than



Oh, I wish you knew

You’ll be brand new

after these next four years are said and done

And Oh, wish I could tell

That although you think it’s hell

You’ll come on through

But all that I can think to say

Is “I love you.”



So, here we are.

Caught somewhere in between

A boy and man.

You’re growing up. You’ve come so far

Won’t be long you’ll have a car

That’s not hot wheels.

These next four years

No doubt will be crazy

What can we do? I’ll tell you, baby:

What we can.

That’s my whole plan. But



Oh, I wish you knew

What I would do

For after your big sister’s dead and gone

Oh, wish I could tell

As long as I’m not stuck in hell

You’ll come on through

‘cause it’d take hell to stop this girl

From loving you.



Oh, I wish you knew

You’ll be brand new

after these next four years are said and done

And Oh, wish I could tell

That although you think it’s hell

You’ll come on through

But all that I can think to say

Is “I love you.”

All that I can think to say

Is “I love you.”
© Copyright 2011 Gracie Jackson (UN: intrepidation at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Gracie Jackson has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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