Lyrics: Dave Malloy
Music: Dave Malloy
SUSAN
my grandmother's house
stands beyond a grove of thin white birch trees
you can peel the bark;
it rolls up like a cigar
you can press it to your lips
whistle a birch bird song
coming up the drive
white gravel crunches at your feet
one gets in your shoe
nibbles at your toes
and the birds;
the air is latticed with birds of brilliant colors
cerulean crests
vermilion breasts
and butterflies flutter by
in bursts of ochre and amber
now i had been in finland at a blacksmithing festival
researching my next novel
and i didn't have any money
and the flights were a mess
and i didn't have any reason to go back to new york
and so i went to latvia
i never really knew my grandmama—
a static birthday phone call every year or two
my mother said she'd always been a hermit
my grandpapa left them both
and when she died, some six years ago
her home was left behind
in the trust of a transylvanian caretaker
and so
my grandmother's house
stood silent and empty
waiting for me
on the porch there is a wooden swing
hung on rusty thin chains
i'd sit there in the evening
think of grandmama doing the same
did she sit on the left side?
or did she sit on the right?
or the middle…
i sat in the middle
listening to the phasing crickets
i'd think about my grandmama
and i'd think about my ex
stare up at the stars
and smoke another cigarette
at night
the birch trees stand like ghosts
when you're nursing a heartache
sometimes you look back
trying to find the reasons
your life has gone off track
parents and grandparents
every branch along the tree
trying to trace the tumor
that ended up in me
and the birch trees stand like ghosts
oh the birch trees stand like ghosts