When I’m Older

Sunset on the water
Where the trees met the lakeside
And you called your father
And turned to me teary eyed
Admitting you were alright
You refused to lie, or so you claimed
I wouldn't mention the facade
If I didn't know my place
And the lake fish nodded
Like they knew what we said
We shared a bottle of wine on the street
You acted like you'd never met
The drunk version of me before
Then you cried on my shoulder

Now I'm starting to put the pieces together
If it's not home it's not the answer
And you might feel better
If we talked about it
I'm starting to understand
Something I won't know until I'm a man
Or at least when I'm older

I lied, about where I was that night
You said you knew but it didn't matter
Something about the way the bottle cracked when we were done filled you up with laughter
And I said, I haven't seen you laugh this hard
Since when we rolled the windows in the car down and the radio happened to play your favorite Michael Jackson song

And you said I'm starting to make my own assumptions;
It takes more than margins on a paper to make you feel exasperated
And I said I'm starting to understand;
It's something I won't know until I'm a man
Or at least when some time has passed