I wrote this song during a road trip to Mississippi to visit my Mom in the nursing home. I began to think about being a dad, and how much I tried to control my kids when they were younger, like they were puppets on a string. I thought about the story of Pinocchio and how he wanted to be free from the strings of Geppetto. Jiminy Cricket worked his magic to help guide Pinocchio back to Geppetto who had to learn to let Pinocchio grow into a Real Boy. I had to do the same. I had to let go of the notion that these were “my” kids. They are their own, free to make their own choices.
Old man’s hands are busted and worn,
Chips in the wood, shirt sleeves torn.
Wall full of figures he carved on his own,
Said these are all mine
cause they’re bone of my bone.
He tied strings from the figures
to a cross of wood,
Commanded their moves,
Cause he knew he could
But they cut those strings,
Cut themselves free,
Took their chances and said
“I’ve just got to be me.”
[Chorus ]
Jiminy, Jiminy, work your magic once again,
The strings have broken and
I need to hold em back in my hand
These lives I made were mine to keep,
But they cut their own strings
And run off like a thief,
Jiminy, Jiminy please work your magic again.
They found the trouble, they found the fire,
Ran headlong into danger’s desire.
Couldn’t pull ’em loose, couldn’t let ‘em be,
He denied the pain when his heart would bleed
[Chorus]
Geppetto’s old now, his eyes are weak,
Doesn’t carve any more and he don’t speak.
But he feels the tug, still fights the tears,
For the lives he carved in his younger years.
[Final Chorus]
Jiminy, Jiminy, work your magic once again,
Bind these strings to my heart but not to my hands.
The lives I carved were never mine,
So cut ‘em loose from the cross
Of my own design
Jiminy, Jiminy, please work your magic again
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