The curly sheepskin rug we called “the furry”
And sometimes I wonder why
The plastic clock, the macrame owl, and the butcher block couch are on my mind
I wonder why my parents chose a brown and orange scheme
And why that seemed okay to me
I wonder why the kitchen was an avocado green
And the upstairs bathroom was peach
The northern lights
We saw them in Vermont one night from the car
But only once, I wonder why
The aliens who landed on the roof, they left me there
And didn’t take me to the sky
I’ve escaped into my childhood memories tonight
I wonder why my corduroys were always light blue
And I never had a TV in my bedroom
Just a flame from an electric candle on my windowsill
And I dreamed of my melodies touching you
I wonder why the marimekko fabric on the wall was ever taken down
I wonder how a transistor radio held up to my ear
Brought me to heaven
And it’s still leading me here
1 comment:
Another time. I work with a girl who is 20 years younger than me and when i speak of things like this she looks at me blankly and wonders when I will stop talking. It’s strange. It happens fast. Good memories. Horrible horrible music. Garbage.
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