Woodcutter’s Children
Women play games their mothers taught them
Men take aims their fathers bought them
So far back down the road that they don't know
From where it came, how to let it go
Let it go
All of your life you were the object of his wrath
Forever on the wrong path and he always let you hear about it
The love you shared
Misered and uncertain and yet true
He always expected more of you
Go where he lies
On his dying bed
Take his hand
Forgive the man
Don't let him go with all of those things unsaid
You had the life
Always free of want
Sheltered from the taunts that drove so many others crazy
Built of their love
A fortress to protect you from the blows
Meanwhile your cup still overflows
How long, how long
How long will you hide
Take the test
Split the nest
Nothing to show with both of those wings untried
I know it's hard not to feel like the woodcutter's children sometimes
Stumbling on a bread house in the woods
Is this a sweet dream
Come of age
Or just another well-laid trap by a witch up to no good
How little we've outgrown
Like refugees we roam, no crumbs to show us home
Swore on your life
You were cut of different cloth
You really cut a swath to hear you tell about it
Somewhere, some way
Caught between the dawn and decay
Lost your footing and so were swept away
Like those before
Though you may pretend
Open your eyes
To your vain disguise
For after all, you're really so much like them
I know it's hard not to feel like the woodcutter's children sometimes
Stumbling on a bread house in the woods
Is this a sweet dream
Come of age
Or just another well-laid trap by a witch up to no good
How little we've outgrown
Like refugees we roam
No crumbs to show us home
How little we've outgrown
Like refugees we roam
No crumbs to show us home
How little we've outgrown
Like refugees we roam
No crumbs to show us home
© Charlie Vavra, Right Riffs of Dover