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your mother calls me into her bedroom
i walk in to find her kneeling by the dresser drawer
an empty glass of wine to her left,
your framed obituary card lying on the floor
catholic hymns play soft on the TV
she starts removing your old clothing:
your old shirts, class sweater, your practice jersey
she waves me over and hands them to me
i smell the scents of your living body,
i almost feel your essence
i hold your clothing tight in my hand and think of you
chasing lose balls with your friends
sydney's in town for the weekend
we smoke her cigarette's and listen to cars on cassette
and i wish you were here
you had so much life to live, still
your shirts hang in my closet
unwashed always and still unworn
your old shirts hang in my closet
i only took them cause your mother implored
see them and think of us as children
passing days in our youthful stride
a world of open windows
watching lakers games when you'd spend the night
i wanna be the kind of person people miss
learn to love those around me the way you did
wanna see past all my stupid problems
learn to see the world outside myself
i know you are, i know who you were
and i guess that that's enough
i know you are, i know who were
and i swear the i'll keep that with me
The second album by French-Moroccan power quartet Bab L' Bluz is packed with dizzying melodies and rich instrumentation. Bandcamp New & Notable Feb 14, 2024