I wonder when your birthday is, I know that it's in September but the kids in my class all laughed at me when I said that was all I could remember and I guess some people don't share their history. Some people don't want pictures in the press. So we shrug off those conventions, we don't go after the glory, we just keep to ourselves and let the iniquisitive guess about what we're like. They'll wonder, they'll wonder what we're like

So I made my way back home, like an Archaeologist determined to uncover my past and found myself in a small room. What are we having for dinner? is all I managed to ask and with some lights on the wall, some tinsel but no clamoring to set the silence free, til I heard your father begin to speak, and I diverted my gaze into the Christmas tree as he told me, take nothing for granted, don't be afraid to cherish every beautiful thing that you find, cuz nobody really knows when the rapture is coming, and you don't want to end up left behind

On some unpaved road in Augusta, he turns and looks your mother straight in the eyes as he tells her that he loves her, and that was the same year that he found out she was going to die and I wonder what he felt

So a few decades later we find ourselves on opposite sides of a restaurant booth and I heard you mention something about your first wife, and that was something that I never knew and staring into the table I could feel my humiliation broadcasting out into the air, as I sat there just quiet and wondering, how much more of your history is just wandering around out there?

And I wonder what she's like, I wonder what she's like


Lyrics submitted by jtk1993

I'm an Archeologist song meanings
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