(DiffordTilbrook)



A black and white photograph

Of me up the garden path

Wrapped up in my football scarf

It sits here in my hand

And there mother smothered me

And how she would mother me

She knew how to suffer me

Like all mothers can

Now she is everywhere

The comb that runs through my hair

My posture on a chair

But that's not who I am

He ran from the arguments

And sat on the garden fence

And lived in the passing tense

That fell from her lips

He tended the house so well

And each time she rang his bell

He'd climb back from where he fell

And gathered his wits

Now I fear the mold is mine

A vibration shakes my spine

As I walk the crooked line

Reality hits



So let me walk free from you

You know that you want me to

Let me try something new

Let me walk away



If it's not one thing it's your mother

How I love her

How I love her

How I love her

But it's not so easy to say

Please won't you let me walk away

Let me walk away

Let me walk away



So let me walk on my own

And finish my ice cream cone

If we are to make it home

Then all will be well

Look see I'm a father now

I'm raising my own eyebrow

And being in my own row

And making life hell

This is me, see here I am

Doing the best that I can

This life has a subtle plan

But you couldn't tell