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belated promise ring - Iron & Wine |
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Sunday morning, my Rebecca sleeping in with me again |
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There's a kid outside the church kicking a can |
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When the cedar branches twist she turns her collar to the wind |
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The weather can close the world within its hand |
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And my mother says Rebecca is as stubborn as they come |
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They both call to me with words I never knew |
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There's a bug inside the thimble, there's a band-aid on her thumb |
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And a pony in the river turning blue |
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They say, "Time may give you more than your poor bones could ever take" |
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My Rebecca says she never wants a boy |
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To be barefoot on the driveway as they wave and ride away |
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Then to run inside and curse the open door |
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I once gave to my Rebecca a belated promise ring |
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And she sold it to the waitress on a train |
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I may find her by the phone but with a fashion magazine |
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She may kiss me when her girlfriends leave again |
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They say, "Time may give you more than your poor bones could ever take" |
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I think I could never love another girl |
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To be free atop a tree stump and to look the other way |
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While she shines my mother's imitation pearls |
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|
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Sunday evening my Rebecca's lost a book she never read |
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And the moon already fell into the sea |
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Saw the statues of our fathers in the courthouse flower bed |
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Now they blend with all the lightning-tattered trees |
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They say, "Time may give you more than your poor bones could ever take" |
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My Rebecca said she knew I'd want a boy |
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A dollar for my boardwalk red balloon, to float away |
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She would earn a pocketful to buy me more |