Mar 3, 2022

Kevin Morby • This is a Photograph • 2022




This is a photograph, a window to the past
Of your father on the front lawn, with no shirt on
Ready to take the world on, beneath the West Texas sun
The year that you were born, the year that you are now
His wife behind the camera, his daughter and his baby boy
Got a glimmer in his eye, seems to say, this is what i'll miss after I die
and this is what i'll miss about being alive. My body, my girls, my boy, the sun

Now time's the undefeated, the heavyweight champ
Laughing in his face, as it dance like Sugar Ray
Used to be "c'mon c'mon" but now "no mas, no mas"

And this is a photograph, a window to the past
of your mother in a skirt, in the cool Kentucky dirt 
Laughing in the garden (haha!) back where it all started
with a smile on her face, everything in its place
Got a glimmer in her eyes seems to say: this is what I'll miss about being alive
and this is what i'll miss after I die

This is a photograph, a window to the past
 of me on a front lawn, ready to take the world on
 beneath the Tennessee sun, inside the kingdom
Got a glimmer in my eye, seems to say

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