Mama's in the kitchen, banging pots and pans
And Daddy's outside, making friends with another pack of glass bottles
While Sissy sits inside, her door closed tight
Voices breaking through the crack on the floor
I find myself at a loss for words again
Which isn't rare for me
Because I've heard the whispered promises across the telephone wires
I've heard the words not meant to be heard
Seen the eye rolls, witnessed the contradictions
And while Mama tucks me in and
Sings me a little song, one about fast horses and new houses,
I pretend to let my eyes close, just until she's gone
Then I creep out of my bed to peek out the window
And Daddy's bottles are strewn across the ground
Glittering like the stars would, if clouds weren't in the way