you remind me of someone

I don't know who

an old familiar face

maybe a lover

from my wilder youth

or my mother in her younger days

maybe in a former life

I was a serviceman

and you were my wife



you remind me of someone

I don't know who

maybe it's better that way

you remind me of someone

I don't know who

it's, uh, Georgia O'Keeffe, yeah

in your desert of shape and hue

bleached bones and silent grief

the way you stare off into space

and see only what

you want to face

you remind me of someone

I don't know who

someone who's a lot like me



did anybody ever tell you

that you look

a little like Mary Cassatt

a mother and a child

arranged, estranged

a mere brush stroke apart

while underneath your varnish

hides an unpossessible soul

you remind me of someone

I don't know who

somebody who's so hard to know



you remind me of someone

I don't know who

maybe the ghost

of things yet to come

or the shining eyes

of my daughter dear

still waiting to be born

or the loving gaze of Mother Earth

still flirting with the universe

you remind me of someone

I don't know who

somebody I

somebody I could learn to love



Lyrics by Bob Walkenhorst

© 1994 Bob Walkenhorst Music BMI