Bishop

bristlecone pine tree,
warped and twisted in the wind,
tell me your story

Home

hope when i get back you remember
and my face doesn't look like a stranger's
a little greener a little weary
even a sprinkle or two of gray
and this sun tanned skin on my face
please excuse the wrinkles in their place.

when i get home soon
I promise a story or two
i'll make it up to you
when i get home soon

i'm know that i have missed some moments
probably the first time that you talked
i had to take advice that i heard
so you choose this road, now you must walk

when i get home soon
I promise a story or two
i'll make it up to you
when i get home soon

we wonder where are your front teeth
you say you lost them long ago
then hold your hands up like a field goal
the room laughs because we all know

when i get home you
you'll say "are you leaving so soon"
i'll make it up to you
when i come back soon