The Things We've Handed Down
by Marc Cohn
"The Rainy Season"
I don't know much about you, I don't know who you are
And we'd been doing fine without you but we could only go so far
I don't know why you chose us, were you watching from above
Is there someone there that knows us said we'd give you all our love
I wonder who you'll look like will your hair fall down and curl
Will you be a momma's boy or daddy's little girl
Will you be a sad reminder of what's been lost along the way
Maybe you can help me find her in the things you do and say
Will you laugh just like your mother will you sigh like your old man
Will some things skip a generation like I've heard they often can
Are you a poet or a dancer, a devil or a clown
Or a strange new combination of the things we've handed down
You may not always be so grateful for the way that you were made
Maybe some feature of your father's that you'd gladly sell or trade
And one day you may look at us and say that you were cursed
But over time that line has been extremely well rehearsed
By our fathers and their fathers in some old and distant town
>From places no one here remembers come the things we've handed down
Paul Pfaffenberger
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