Yes, I heard you
The first time
Yes, I understand
That my boy Johnny is dead
Yes, yes, he got hit by a car
While cycling down the road
But excuse me, kind sir
If you don’t mind
Let me say a few words
Before we go any further
I learned to play the trombone
When I was eight
I joined my first marching band
When I was ten
I learned to tie all manners of knots
When I was twelve
I learned the wonders of the great outdoors
When I was fourteen
I learned to woo a girl
When I was sixteen
I learned to get on one knee
When I was eighteen
I learned unconditional love
When I was twenty
Seeing my newborn Johnny
Red and tiny
Asleep for the first time upon me
I learned to answer to “Dad”
I learned to fuss, to worry, to fret
I learned to revolve my world around him
I learned that life was indeed something.
But, kind sir, I must inform you
In all my years of living
And all my years of learning
I’m sorry, but
I haven’t yet learned how to grieve
If you could please step outside
And pretend you never came
I will close the door
And pretend with you
Because, kind sir, I must inform you
In all my years of living
And all my years of learning
I’m sorry, but
I haven’t yet learned how to grieve
When you are gone
And I am alone
I’ll slam my head on the wall
I’ll crack my skull if necessary
I’ll do anything to forget this memory
Because, kind sir
Not now, not with my Johnny
I refuse, I refuse
To learn how to grieve.
