the things we've handed down

Don't know much about you, 

Don't know who you are, 
We've been doing fine without you 
But we could only go so far. 

Don't know why you chose us; 
Were you watching from above? 
Is there someone there that knows us 
Said we'd give you all our love? 

Will you laugh just like your mother? 
Will you sigh like your old man? 
Will some things skip a generation 
Like I've heard they often can? 

Are you a poet or a dancer, 
A devil or a clown? 
Or a strange new combination of 
The things we've handed down. 

I wonder who you'll look like? 
Will your hair fall down and curl? 
Will you be a mama's boy, 
Or daddy's little girl? 

Will you be a sad reminder 
Of what's been lost along the way? 
Maybe you can help me find her 
In the things you do and say? 

And these things that we have given you, 
They are not so easily found... 
But you can thank us later 
For the things we've handed down. 

You may not always be so grateful 
For the way that you were made, 
Maybe some feature of your father's 
That you'd gladly sell or trade. 

And one day you may look at us 
And say that you were cursed, 
But over time that line has been 
Extremely well rehearsed, 

By our fathers, and their fathers 
In some old and distant town. 
From places no one here remembers 
Come the things we've handed down.

~Mark Cohn