The grief was already old When I told you about it Look, I said, see that little bird That's it, up there in the pine No, the third one to the right That used to be my mother Then you took me by the hand The sand was wet where we stood We stepped out on the jetty You let me carry you You let me carry you You let me carry you Winter had shoved it aside You saw what I pointed out I watched how doubt filled your eyes You sighed: But dad, don't you see It's just a tree, not a bird Maybe it's your memory And it grows by the water You let me carry you You let me carry you You let me carry you Winter had shoved it aside I'd tried but couldn't fix it I'd tried but couldn't fix it The grief was already old