Everything You Taught Me

Your toolbox is still in the hallway It still smells like oil and rain I keep finding you in my hands You'd say, look a man in the eye, son, when you shake A promise isn't words — it's showing up on time I watched you lose a Saturday to a neighbor's dying mower You never said the word for love, you just got the wrenches out They ask me what you left behind Dad, I tell them the truth Everything you taught me — I carry it out loud A handshake with my eyes up, a promise kept somehow There wasn't any money, Dad, but I got the better end You were reading me the will my whole life Every time you said, hand me that wrench Now my boy holds the flashlight like I held it for you I hear your patience coming out of my own mouth Fix the thing, don't curse it — the garage radio low One whiff of WD-40 and you're standing at my shoulder He asks me how I know this stuff I say, somebody good showed me Everything you taught me — I carry it out loud A handshake with my eyes up, a promise kept somehow There wasn't any money, Dad, but I got the better end You were reading me the will my whole life Every time you said, hand me that wrench You always tapped the hood twice when a job was finally done Someday my son will teach his son, and you'll be in that room Three generations deep, still working off your blueprint I tap the hood twice for you — but this job's never done Everything you taught me — I carry it out loud A handshake with my eyes up, a promise kept somehow There wasn't any money, Dad, but I got the better end You were reading me the will my whole life Every time you said, hand me that wrench Your toolbox stays in the hallway My hands know what to do