What I Know Now
Verse 1
The orange tent beneath the tree,
Your wooden pegs, my smaller tent.
Grandpa making room for breakfast—
I wonder where those summers went.
At night we’d walk past caravans,
Their windows dark along the track,
Then buy mint chocolate at the shop
And take our time on the way back.
Sometimes my eyes would fill with tears;
I’d turn away so you couldn’t see.
I didn’t know how to tell you
What walking there beside you meant to me.
Chorus 1
Dad, I loved you in the quiet,
On those walks when day was through.
There was nothing in the darkness
I was scared of next to you.
I thought we had a little longer,
More summers coming down the line.
I didn’t know I’d spend a lifetime
Going back there in my mind.
Verse 2
You’d spend an afternoon at work
On something smaller than my thumb.
I’d run my trains right through next door
And listen to the workshop hum.
Six years of turning brass and steel,
Then wheels that moved and steam that rose—
You climbed aboard to take us round,
And for a moment, we were both boys.
And when you had a joke to tell,
Your green eyes gave the game away.
You’d laugh until the coughing came;
We’d have to let the punchline wait.
Chorus 2
I once wished you were more outspoken,
Like the men who filled a room.
Now I treasure all that quiet
And the space you gave me, too.
I never learned to build your engines,
But I know what those hours were for:
To give yourself to something you love
And want for nothing more.
Verse 3
Your white work shirt, your days in dentistry,
When you’d have rather built machines.
I understand a little better
What those working days had cost you.
You never chose my future for me,
Never asked me to become you.
When I found a place to call my own,
You came and helped me paint the rooms.
You gave me things you’d kept since childhood,
Your stamps, your little railway lines.
I see the trust in those gifts now—
Your treasured things becoming mine.
Chorus 3
You gave me room to find my own way,
Though yours was sometimes hard to bear.
You weren’t a man for declarations,
But when I needed you, you were there.
I know we left so much unspoken;
I wish we’d found the words somehow.
But I can see the love you gave me.
I want to thank you for it now.
Verse 4
At Christmas, out would come the camera.
We’d groan and turn our faces round.
You kept on filming through the wrapping;
I’m glad you never put it down.
And on those roads beyond the mountains,
Your music filled the car with sound.
I’d have my binoculars ready;
You’d stop for something you had found.
Now I’m the one who takes the pictures,
Who wants to keep the passing days.
I find you in the things I notice.
I see you in so many ways.
Chorus 4
You showed me how to love the world,
Its open roads, its sea and sky.
I still sleep out beneath the stars
And wait for morning, just like you.
I wish we had another journey,
With nothing much we had to do.
I’d bring along my camera, Dad,
And leave the music up to you.
Verse 5
I saw you holding Mum’s hand
On the bus as our holiday ended.
Such a small thing, sitting there together;
I’ve never forgotten the tenderness.
You put her name upon an engine,
And Jo’s upon another one.
Years of work, and there their names were,
For everyone to see.
You should have walked Jo down the aisle,
Met Sam and Matt and watched them grow.
I picture you and Matt out fishing,
All the things you’d want to show.
Bridge
I’m old enough to see how young you were.
One day short of fifty-six.
I think of all the life ahead of me
And all the years you didn’t get.
I’ve known a little of that darkness;
I wish you’d had more help with yours.
You gave me somewhere safe to bring my fears.
I wish you’d felt that safety too.
And if we had an hour together,
I wouldn’t need to make you explain.
I’d pull a chair beside you in the sunshine
And spend an ordinary day with you.
Final chorus
Dad, I find you in the mornings
When I take my camera out,
In a dog that runs to greet me,
In the things I laugh about.
You gave me much of what I love here,
And the freedom to make it my own.
I wish I could have known you longer.
I’m so glad to be your son.
Outro
The orange tent, the same old tree,
A little chocolate left to share.
We take the long way to the tent.
I keep you with me for a while.
There’s something I’ve been meaning to say.
I love you, Dad.
I always did.
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