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48
Brisa Roche
Father
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I got to you when I had turned sixteen
Your blood was running dirty
I guess you could've thought I was a dream
Never had to think of ways to prove my love
All the dangerous tests that came fit me like a glove

Forty eight, oh forty eight
Forty eight, oh forty eight
I only saw a swinging gate
My hungry heart, an empty plate

In our basement rooms we made me a bed
Trash novels under plywood, a flowered case for my head
I can see you standing naked in the kitchen by the stove
Swaying gently on your long legs, a tree far from the grove

Forty eight, oh forty eight
Forty eight, oh forty eight
I only saw a swinging gate
My hungry heart, an empty plate

Three times my sixteen was your forty eight
I tried my best but I was too late
Three times my sixteen was your forty eight
My strongest love isn't strong enough compared to fate

Over by Greenlake, from another basement room
I shot out on my two feet, I was a rocket to the moon
Thought I could outrun your absence if I ran 'til dawn
I could run straight to Portland but I'd still feel you gone

Forty eight, oh forty eight
Forty eight, oh forty eight
Forty eight, oh forty eight
Forty eight, oh forty eight

I only saw a swinging gate
My hungry heart, an empty plate
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