My+mother's+eyes*

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This is a track from my album Pink Turban - you can hear the whole thing on [|Bandcamp.com] (just search for //Bob Keith// or //Pink Turban//)
I see myself disappearing from my mother’s eyes Even though I’m sitting right here, I see I slip from her mind She says, 'and where have you come from today? And say hello to your ma, I don't get out that much now, they don't let me go far

She stares at the paper each day She reads every word They sit neat and true on the page But meanings fly off like birds Oh today's all a muddle she says I just need time to get clear Always only just moved in Never sure she'll stay here

In the end is a life just a busted old box tied with string? Leaking old faded photos as we start to float free from our things/and all the songs we will no longer sing

I ring up to say I'll be down, she says, 'I'll make sure that I'm here' She's always in the same room we sit in the same chairs 'What a lovely surprise', she says It's been such a long while 'No-one seems to call now I know you've not got the time'

I've learned to stop asking questions They only cause her despair She's got a collection of favourite phrases She calls up then sets free in the air What a beautiful day she says Oh those houses are new Everything's for the best Remind me whose boy are you?

I get up to leave and feel her puzzled eyes follow me home Too soon we are turning away And too soon all alone

What a lovely surprise she says What a beautiful day We've all been so lucky The good have their day

An unravelling tape full of songs we can no longer sing

I ring up to say I'll be down but I'm not really sure why

I wonder just who she thinks I am this time At least she thinks that she knows She repeats all her favourite lines And I’ve stopped using questions

Little bird little bird don’t fly too high Bring back your song to light up her eyes Little bird little bird come flying home And let her find some rest from the threatening storm

You can see her eyes chasing it around the room You can see her ears pricking for its sweet sweet tune

She has incantations to ward off the dark She hums to herself all day tunelessly to still her heart She avoids using names but she shines

In straight lines they march/squat/crouch cross/on the page Dorothy/she reads the paper all day –but can’t remember a word/but the world is a place far away/but the things that she reads Like runes in a land far away

One day the birds will fly away not to return