Little Blue Dirtbike

I remember you that summer
You drove us down to Santa Barbara
I asked if we were still in America
Your giant house on a million acres
Your pinball machine that didn’t take quarters
Your two scary dogs who would eye me when I got close
Taste of the evening air
Bouncing through the pasture on that
Little blue dirtbike
Past the fences to where I’d swim
The whole world began
You taught me how to hold a cue without shaking
And then you ran the table every time without mercy
And you said «the second thing you need to learn about pool
Is that it’s no fun to lose»
Sometimes at night we’d sit and I’d
Watch you watch the rodeo and I’d
Do my best to look
Like I knew what was going on
I know your face and a few scattered stories
That my dad repeats whenever I ask about you
Some things you’ve seen that I can’t imagine
Some things you’ve done that seem to border on fantasy
And awkward phone calls some years around Christmas
And a glimpse of you sometimes in the mirror
A second glass whenever I pass an old guy in a motorhome
Sometimes before I go to bed, I
Wonder what you did today
But rather than pick up a phone I’ll
Wait for the feeling to fade away
I guess I know where I get that from
But I remember you that summer
I remember you that summer
I remember you that summer