Parkland

Sun through the window like a boogey man

Unfinished curtains on the nightstand

Alarm clock bounces off my head

Phone is ringing beside my bed

My son is dressed and waiting on the step

It’s the head nurse calling from Parkland.

I got a kid and his name’s John-John

Born the same day as the President’s son

Today is the day of the big parade

But they’re short at work and it’s double pay

That means a new scooter on your birthday

But the president will have to wait….

Take public transit 109

Bounce out at the Parkland sign

Bring him to work and show him around

Grab that bucket. Mop and gown

Towels and bedsheets, blankets and diapers

Wheel him around in the laundry hamper

John was the Prez, a mop was Jackie K.

We were a two-man motorcade

A girl stopped skipping to watch us shoot past

He blew her a kiss and then through the glass

Of the emergency doors we turned to see

Blood and roses, guns and grief

Bring him in and lay him down

John, bring the surgeons gloves and gowns

Through the black suits darting to and fro

I could see her shaking and alone

John-John put that bullet back

And offer Mrs. Kennedy your hand

Hold it tight ‘till her cryings done

And don’t look back, I won’t be long…

I brought fresh linen for the President

I watched the doctors pronounce him dead

Then a light voice said, “Is this your son?

He held my hand and my cryin’s done.”

Then John-John said, “You better get along,

You’ve got a birthday party to plan when you get home.”

She bent down and kissed my John-John’s face

Smoothed down her bloody dress into place

And with her son’s love as her staff

She lifted a nation on her back

She turned and nodded, we nodded back

As they carried her husband from Parkland…John-John put that bullet back