I Don’t Remember You

ã Tim Moyer 1994

I can remember you laughing at me when I dropped the kite string

I can remember you watching me cry

I can remember you leaving one day and never saying a thing

I can remember you never coming back and I’m wondering why

I don’t remember you

I can remember the smell of your after shave as you went off to work

I can remember wanting to be like you some day

I can remember you screaming at her for no apparent reason

I can remember the look on her face as you drove away

But I don’t remember you

I don’t remember I keep coming up dry but for the tears in my eyes

My heart can’t render an impressionist view of all the faces of you

I read the letter that you wrote, never mentioned me

I don’t remember ‘cause moma always protected me

And I never knew how you died

And I never thought to ask myself why

All these tears inside are coming up dry ‘cause I don’t remember you

I can remember the sound of your shoes on the pavement

I can remember fearing the man in the clean white shirt

I can remember the sound and the smell in the air

I can remember all these things, but

I don’t remember you