My mother believed among many things
baking soda and water could calm a beast's stain.
Crackers and soup could heal fever and flu,
cure the common cold or song,
heartbreaking news,
but mostly I recall her hand on my hair,
the smell of apo rub as she sat on the bed.
Hell of a study and stew rings true in a world
where we all could use a tissue or two.
The rain fell hard as we sat in that dive.
You passed me a beat
and you told me you'd drive.
Endings are tough, but enough is enough.
If I needed some help,
you'd stop by with your truck,
but mostly I recall your hand on mine,
saying it's gonna be all right,
but it's gonna take time.
Hell of a study and stew rings true in a world
where we all could use a tissue or two.
You never know when some flour and water
or just a little sweetness is all the doctor ordered.
You never know how long a kindness might last
like a bell in the distance or an echo from past.
That's why I have crackers and soup on the shelf,
why I pack up a basket and I bring it myself.
There's power in what passes for what's humble and small,
always shifting the balance in spite of it all,
but mostly I recall
the counting of sheep and the whole
world went still as I drifted to sleep.
Hell of a study and stew rings true in a world
where we all could use a tissue or two.
Hell of a study and stew rings true in a world
where we all could use a tissue or two.