Lies My Mother Told Me

[couchgrouch]

Lies My Mother Told MeMom said she could afford it, when she bought my brand new bikeand she'd claim she wasn't crying, though I heard her ev'ry nightshe kept a few old photos, of a man that looked like mesaid he was my father, that he'd died when I was threeshe'd tickle my sides, pinch my cheeks and hold mehow could I not believe lies my mother told meyears later I was workin this taco placefront of the line was a familiar facehis gravel voice said when he passed the prison gateshe asked around that small town and looked me upI told my boss I was takin fivecouldn't b'lieve my dad was still alivehe vowed his past was dead just his love survivedI was naive but I believed my own flesh and bloodafter the kind face my old man showed meI cursed my mem'ries for lies my mother told mewell, I was driving home sir, one night with the radio onwhistling down the freeway when my fav'rite DJ cut off a Beatles' songhe said the First National, had just been robbedcops had shot and wounded, the guy who pulled the jobthen the DJ went back to playin oldiesbut all I heard were lies my mother told mesome steal so they won't starveother just have an empty heartno matter how sorry they arethe wind up destroyed because of voids they can't filltime had taken the law in its handsI stood at his bed to comfort my old mansaid mom forgave him and would understandhe smiled wide as he made parole that night and lay stilland as I remembered how she used to hold meI fin'ly understood lies my mother told me(c)2005 Robert George