Milk Carton

I don’t know if you ever met my uncle
He died nearly four years ago
My mom’s youngest brother, he lived in the woods
In a cabin he built by himself

We’d never know when he would be coming
He’d do projects around the house
He’d sleep in a tent in our back yard
Because he wouldn’t sleep inside
He’d never sleep in side

Things I hesitate to do
It’s mostly everyday
Like what to wear and what music to listen to
I think of him drinking milk from a carton
And I laugh and say
I don’t care what they thought of him
And what they think of me
No, I don’t care what they thought of him or me

He would drink our milk from the carton
And then he would put it back
My mom didn’t like that, she’d get so annoyed
But she still loved to have him there

He really liked to play fiddle music
And he also played the blues guitar
He’d write his own songs and play them with me
And he also taught me how to waltz
He taught me how to waltz

Things I hesitate to do…

He’d come to Thanksgiving dinner
Drumsticks he’d eat with his hands
My family wished he’d use a fork and a knife
But they still loved to have him there

One day we got a call that something happened
He died in the woods by himself
And it was all too soon, so much I could have learned
I wish we’d had more time (2x)

Things I hesitate to do…

When I think of him I’m more accepting
Of people who do their own thing
There are people who care and people who don’t
I want to be more like him
I want to be more like me

Things I hesitate to do…