this fan sounds like your old rocking chair baby do you remember it? the odd creek it had like the wood was trying to hold on just for you. i remember when we found it on the side of the road on one of the hottest days of the summer and you swore it was meant to come home with us because your father had one when you were a child and he'd sit you in his lap and sing his favorite old tunes while the sun was starting to set and you missed those times and i remember us cramming it into the trunk of our little car and carrying it up three flights of stairs to our little home and placing it in the corner of our little living room and i remember how every evening we made it home before the sun would set you'd drag me over to that little chair rest your head in my lap and sing me a tune while i stroked your hair you said your father showed you he loved you everyday the one way he knew how so to keep the tradition going that's what you'd do to me but after a while you remembered your father became a drunk who stopped singing to you and then you got angry and stopped singing to me too and one day i got home before the sunset to find that chair we got off the side of the road smashed into shards of wood scattered across our floor and that's when i knew you'd stopped loving me the same way you thought your father stopped loving you.
"if i could sing worth a **** i wouldn't wait for the sunsets to show you i loved you."