John, John, John, the dinner's on
We're all hunched here waiting, we'll be waiting when you're gone
And come you do and go you do and everyone is dead
Kitchen knives and startled eyes and hammering in your head
And I don't care very much, I don't care very much
Oh my father, here is your child
Oh my father, here is your child
Oh my father, here is your child
Take him from me
Here is a baby, without breath
Here there is a two-year-old boy struggling in his mess
And here the boy is three years old and here the boy is four
And here the room is empty and the stains have been scrubbed off the floor
Stones, stones, stones along the hill
Who is buried under them, well, only God can tell
And it was all so long ago and no one wants to think
Badly of the man who was and is and will be king.
credits
from Why the Grownups Shout,
released October 15, 2014
Instruments and vocals: Geoff Sanborn
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