elephant

I wrote this song for my Aunt Judy. She was an alcoholic and allergic to alcohol. She let herself die. I wish she would have just waited. Things change. It makes me very sad.

She collected miniature elephants. And her alcoholism was like the elephant in the room. I had a dream after she died that she came to visit me. I wrote this song after that.

Elephant

Sit there all day,
Sit there all time,
Sit on the couch alone.
Little glass eyes,
Stone eyes,
A shelf of eyes once loved
Look down and pray
This isn't how we find her.

When I saw her,
No it was not like skin.
It was a stretch of light
That pulled from eyes to chin.
That was not hers,
Though she wore it for me.
And she lived it down below
The day she died.