LITTLE BROTHER



Little Brother, life is like a boat.
And rowing it all day, your arms get tired.
Your little soul will fly up to its rafter
And look down to where you hang your little coat.

Little Brother, life is poorly wired.
You might burn up before you know what you’re after.
You toss and ride upon life’s purple sea
And dream about a land you once desired.

Little Brother, life will have its laughter,
But please don’t take this as a guarantee
That you’ll have laughed your fill before you end
Or gaze at life forever from your rafter.

Little Brother, you may not agree
That life is both your lover and your friend.
It all depends on what you think you’re after.
But life has loved and walked away from me.

Little Brother, life is what you float upon
And what will break you ‘til you bend.
Little Brother, yesterday I wrote
This note upon a page too torn to ever mend.


Words and music by Galen Green c 1980

Performed on Peasant Cantata c 2003
Excerpted here from The Toolmaker’s Other Son
(working title for) A Memoir by Galen Green
Copyright 2005 – 2007 by Galen Green
All Rights Reserved