The picture looks so real
“He’s the image of him”
The boy, frowning
In the glass, to our left, a reflection
With none of your piss ripples
And the weaker God shall be the stronger man

If I was your baby girl
I’d pull my dress up around my ears
And let the sun shine through the flowers
But I am, in fact your little man and mine is to cry
That it is my face in the sky and not ours

The record turns - backwards
Tons of sour words, tact too, my parents mouths
A lot of it sounds the same
Considering the thought behind it

If you were maybe a baby too
You’d place this poxy place beyond you
And sit with your boy’s toys and deny it

And cause there might be no next time y’all
And a child’s light suits itself
Despite any race you can run through it

And there is a picture of him somewhere
But it’s since faded brown
He used to look exactly like you
Smiling