Imaginary Son

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Malcolm Bauld

4:18

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I awoke and dragged the steps from home
To greet a stranger's contempt
And I didn't need a second look
To know exactly what it meant
I thought upon the resolve to walk
And knowing just when to run
And the lessons that I'd never show
Our imaginary son
Well they keep the snow piles high around here
Until winter's grip expires
And the cars paint all along their banks
With their constant, spraying tires
And just like all those school yard cries
Where no one really won
I swear I heard, while passing by
Our imaginary son
And as our nation prepares to bury ten thousand sons
I look down to console our imaginary one
If you ever think of me when the nights get still
Know I tried to understand what few ever will

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