1. Grandpa

From the recording Eat


My Grandpa used to make me pretty rings
From the wrappers of his favorite
White Owl cigars

And I'd walk through the yard like royalty
With my red and gold cellophane jewelry
Shinin' in the afternoon star

And he'd name his white pigeons after me
And the blue ones after my brother

Although we'd drive those birds for miles and miles
Grandpa'd set them free and smile
Because they'd always come back home and that amazed me

So when I'm feeling lost and nebulous
Distrustful and envious
Like my very soul is leaving me

And I trap my eyes in worried stare
Piled up under my wavy hair
Let it all go on and on to tangle me

In the cross-wired, heady, brainy tether
That could snap me with the lightest feather
In my pitiful self-prophecy

All I gotta do is hear the soothing din
of flapping wings and violin
See the sunset-red silhouettes
Of pigeons coming in

Yeah I remember Saturday mornings
Sitting impatiently
While Grandma wove those 2 tight braids in my hair

Take the number 4 bus to the
Green line T,
Watch sunshine glimmer on the subway's sheen
And get ourselves to Haymarket Square

And all his hawking charmed the public
Had his tomatoes in a perfect pyramid pile
They were four for a dollar just to make you holler
Two for a half just to make you laugh
Money didn't mean as much as a smile