so wet the ground littered rain drops, no rain
so still the wait for me coming again and again
so be it we whisper round huddled mass children and same
brother against brother
father if only father

father if only father
what was done and should I know
father if only father
was it the long trips alone, littered table of plastic bottles

here we are now
watching the young ride bicycles
playing in our own sweat
my hand rims the glass and in
my finger tips my hand and chin
down I go believing
oh down I go believing