leonardcohenforum.com

The sky is dark, the engine loud,
I hear it outside the door.
My clothes are on the chair
It must be today.
It is today. It is today.

I thought things would stay the same,
I thought things would be alright,
I thought we'd stay here.

In the backseat, can I brush my hair?
What about my toys? What about my things?
What about my dad?
Lay down, don't say a word
Crying, no goodbye
Driving away. Driving away.

I thought things would stay the same,
I thought things would be alright,
I thought we'd stay here.

Where are we going? Who are you?
What did I do?
I know I can be better,
You won't even know I'm here.
I'll sit quietly. I'll sit quietly.

I thought things would stay the same,
I thought things would be alright,
I thought we'd stay here.

I thought things would stay the same,
I thought things would be alright,
I thought we'd stay here.

Hi John ~

This reminds me of divorce and foster-care situations. I like the child's viewpoint. You portray the confusion, fear, uncertainty, powerlessness, yet "Was it my fault? I'll try harder... " aspects that occur with those.

~ Lizzay

lizzytysh wrote:Hi John ~

This reminds me of divorce and foster-care situations. I like the child's viewpoint. You portray the confusion, fear, uncertainty, powerlessness, yet "Was it my fault? I'll try harder... " aspects that occur with those.

~ Lizzay

That is exactly the story I was going for.

Although I come from a broken home, my story is not this one as we never were in foster care.

This song was written from the viewpoint of my brother, who was 12 when Mom left (I was 15). Although only three years apart, our experiences were very different. My goal was to imagine what he would have experienced if there had been a night that Dad gave up. Now that I've been a parent for almost seven years I find it amazing that my brother and I didn't wind up in foster care at some point, and I wish I could share this song with my Dad.

You did a very good job imagining, John. It's amazing how even teenagers can internalize these external events in their lives, where they were the innocent bystanders, collateral damage injured by friendly fire.

I'm sorry, too, that you can't share it with your Dad. Each year at that time of our lives is so distinctly different from the one preceding and the one following it. I'm not surprized that your brother had a good deal more difficulty dealing with it.

~ Lizzay