Under the Flowerpot Key

The driveway's empty now,

the paint is peeling back

Thirty years of weeds growing through the sidewalk crack I lifted up

the clay where the dead geraniums sat And found a yellowed note

taped beneath the flowerpot It said "The key is still where your

father left it long ago"

In the corner of the garage,

behind the rusted gears A heavy wooden panel that hadn't moved in

years

I turned the brass lock,

stepped inside the dark Boxes full of tax bills and crayon drawing

art And a stack of dusty letters addressed to my own name

Written in the handwriting that I was taught to blame

(ohh) These are the letters you never sent

All the broken promises and where the money went

You watched from the edges,

too ashamed to come on home But love doesn't wash away the

years I spent alone

Tell me, how many years can a key stay under a flowerpot

Before the iron turns to rust and the wood begins to rot?

I held a photograph of us at Miller's Creek And read your

final page, the ink was pale and weak You wrote,

"I ruined everything, I couldn't face the kid"

No excuses made for all the things you never did

Just a heavy, quiet sorrow from a broken-hearted man

Who wanted to be better but didn't know if he can

And I realize today as the rain falls on the roof I'm

never gonna get the conversation or the proof No magic words of

healing, no final grand design

Just a lifetime of regrets running parallel to mine (mhhh)

These are the letters you never sent

All the broken promises and where the money went

You watched from the edges,

too ashamed to come on home But love doesn't wash away the

years I spent alone

Tell me, how many years can a key stay under a flowerpot

Before the iron turns to rust and the wood begins to rot?

I pack the boxes up,

I leave the letters on the floor But I take the photograph

and walk out of the door No pretending it was right,

but I'm letting go of hate

(hmmmm) How many years can a key stay under a flowerpot?