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Leaning Home

from Even Hand by Even Hand

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lyrics

The calling card of that highway star
was a pretty thing that never went far.
The down times were a nursery rhyme.
My father sold the dead new clothes.

A sleight-of-hand, a confidence man,
with ears in the wind and eyes that count.
Cable light on a golden hour street.
My father sold a loser's mold.

Bottles slide in a suitcase life.
Antenna rooves and his father's father's knife.
My mother was an oil painting blur.
My father sold a leaning home.

He used to enchant and talk to butterflies.
He left me with a horrible love inside--
the Viet Minh will be back again--
and I want to blame him for everything.

credits

from Even Hand, released October 11, 2013

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Even Hand Brooklyn, New York

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