Daddies Girl.
I was young. Maybe 11. It was the weekend and my father and I were sitting in the garage. He was playing me records, pulling the squares off of a shelf of hundreds. Midcentury furniture pilled high all around us, it was dark and dusty. The dust sparkled and floated through the air very still- suspended like stars. Spiderwebs occasionally caught the same light and glistened almost matching the beats of the music. Just me and my father sitting in the garage listening to music. I could occasionally watch memories being triggered by a subtle smile or extended blink on his face. Some of the music familiar from earlier in my youth and some I had never heard. All of it forming a lasting impression on me. The song I remember specifically from this day was David Bowie's Kooks ♫ http://blip.fm/~824nv ♫
We bought a lot of things to keep you warm and dry
And a funny old crib on which the paint won`t dry
I bought you a pair of shoes
A trumpet you can blow
And a book of rules
On what to say to people when they pick on you
`Cause if you stay with us you`re gonna be pretty Kookie too
We bought a lot of things to keep you warm and dry
And a funny old crib on which the paint won`t dry
I bought you a pair of shoes
A trumpet you can blow
And a book of rules
On what to say to people when they pick on you
`Cause if you stay with us you`re gonna be pretty Kookie too