It was a game of Marco-polo
In a swimming pool of tears
Me and Father played
Every other weekend
Marco!
-
Then as his work stole him away
And hid him amongst dollar bills
We played once a month
Marco
-
He must have gotten confused
As he lost me in the ball pit of kids
All calling him Daddy
Yet those were just imposters
And he noticed every other holiday
Marco.
-
Perhaps he forgot he had a kid
But he cared too much to forget
So he tattooed my face to remember
Or was it to replace
However he settled for the muse
Once a year... Or so
Marco....
-
Maybe he thinks I'm dead
Or maybe he wants me dead
Either or I am dying
So his wish will come true
Perhaps he will come back to me
When I'm 6 feet under the weather
And asleep in my casket of tears
Then he may so slightly whisper
polo...
