I've been reading the Prince of Tides, a book that has given birth to a new song. The challenge of parenthood was herculian enough without reading this book, which has only emphasized the beauty of family ties and the tragedy of exploiting them. These lyrics are written in the fictional first person as a reminder to myself of my responsibilities.
This broken photograph framed in the mirror
Hung like a famished shadow
Hollow from all the vicarious dreams
Lying broken in piles on the floor
Pick up the shards one by one
The jigsaw is never quite done
As long as you're here
As long as you're here
Spinning around with your hands on my spine
The shaping--it feels like a blow
Every false potter who reaches for me
Tries to put their own heart in the show
Marred like a stone on the wheel
I knew your stone heart couldn't feel
Til the molding is done
Til the molding is done
Crank up the discs and plow down my back
Plant the spring seeds in my flesh
Call down the rain from impossible clouds
I'll sprout the wings you will like best
Harvesting all of your fruit
Fear on the leaves and the root
It grows harder each year
It grows harder each year
Kill me with love, go on kill me with love
Inject me with your wasted time
Just don't believe, don't you ever believe
You will save me with all your sad crimes
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