Mama’s house still smells like cinnamon dreams,

lullaby vinyl spins low in the glow of the street.

Her rosary swings from the rear-view mirror,

counting every mile I ran from my fears.

Kitchen light hums—she left it for me,

a lighthouse in the dark of the remastered sea.

I kneel by the porch, ghosts swing on the swing,

whispering boy, come home, come sing.

Mama’s Gun – Glass Animals

In the summer

在炎熱的夏天

Took my gun

拿起我的槍

And made him go to never land

讓他消失在這個(gè)世界

He was something

他很了不起

My old husband

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