At four, he laid a shamisen Across my little knees Then placed the bachi in my hand And woke the waiting strings His love took on instruction Every lesson had an order The day he made me his student Was the day he became Father Mom’s copy of **** *** **** ***** Went spinning through the room I learned the whole LP by heart Each ending and each tune I bounced there on Father’s knee And sang the songs I knew He listened, gathered me in close And named me “The Dolly of Kyoto” The Dolly of Kyoto I couldn’t understand How Tennessee through Dolly’s voice Met Kyoto in his hands I only knew I loved those songs And loved when he held me so Long before I found my sound He’d named it years ago I carried some songs to the piano Picked them out key by key Then asked the shamisen for Dolly Before it answered me My hands were still too young to join The worlds I wanted to But every clumsy phrase became A promise I’d grow into The woman wasn’t sacred I never needed her to be I questioned roads she chose to take And kept what spoke to me Her songs outlived my questions The good she did rang true And nothing that I faulted her Could change what Father knew Then on my birthday came the news Her voice had reached its end The letters blurred upon the screen And I was five again I heard the needle find the groove Felt Father’s arms once more The headline named one woman But reached for something more The Dolly of Kyoto Now I understand It was Mom’s LP still turning And Father’s steady hands It was every song I carried Down every road I’ve known It was the whole of me he saw Before I was full-grown The world said Dolly left us On the day they once gave me. But all I heard was Father... And the name he made for me.
