If you’ve ever lost a brother . . . . . . hard not to shed a tear listening to this.
Me and Johnny we were brothers
Though we did not look the same
We had not much in common
We shared little but out last name
He was big and bright and handsome
I was quiet, pale and shy
He could talk a streak
I could barely speak
Where I'd stumble, he would fly
So much so easily came to him
Me, I had to work so much
Where I struggled on with everything
Johnny had the Midas touch
He was quick to anger, quick to laugh, quick to fight
Quick to forgive
He lived each day as though it was his last
Me, I merely lived
He left home when I was eighteen
I still recall his face
We waited vainly for his letters
As he moved from place to place
Me I settled down and married
I got a mortgage and two kids
And if I envied him his freedom
I soon learned to keep it hid
If you love someone
Can you let it show?
Hold them close to you and tell them
So they know
It's too late
By the grave
Give them all the love you have everyday
Johnny died when I was 30
It was a senseless, random death
I got the news, put down the Œphone
I could not get my breath
My parents took it worse than me
For I had lost a brother
But they had lost their prodigal son
They took their pain out on each other
I tried hard to make up for Johnny
I tried to be a better son
It nearly killed me, trying to live for two
I could only live for one
And so it fell to me to be the one
To sort through his effects
I have no words to say how hard it was to search his desk
He seemed so real, so near to me
This man I barely knew
Whose freedom I'd so resented
With each turning of the screw
And then I found the package
It was all tied up with string
I cut the knot, and opened it
And it revealed so many things
There were the letters
That he had never sent
He mostly wrote to me
They revealed the prisoner upon each page
The man I'd thought so free
He wrote "Frank
You think I have so much
Indeed there's little I've not done
But you are loved and can give love back
You're the lucky one
You're the lucky one Frankie
You have family, friends, your wife
And all they'll say when I'm gone
Is, "he had a busy life"
He wrote, "Frank I just can't say those words
We're so different we two
And if you're reading this then I'm long gone
So Frank, I love you"
It was late next day
When I got home
My wife had gone to bed
She stretched and stirred and made some room
"Are you okay?" she said
And I lay down and I held her close
And I kissed her on the head
Then reaching out to take her hand
"I love you." I said
