Unfinished curtains on the nightstand
Alarm clock bounces off my head
Phone is ringing beside my bed
My son is dressed and waiting on the step
It’s the head nurse calling from Parkland
I got a kid. His name’s John-John
Born the same day as the President’s son
Today is the day of the big parade
But they’re short at work and it’s double pay
That means a new scooter on your birthday
But the President will have to wait…
Take Public Transit 109
Bounce out at the Parkland sign
Bring him to work and show him ‘round
Grab that bucket, mop, and gown
Towels, bed sheets, blankets and diapers
Wheel him ‘round in the laundry hamper
John was the Prez, a mop was Jackie K.
We were a two-man motorcade
A girl stopped skipping to watch us shoot past
He blew her a kiss and then through the glass
Of the emergency doors we turned to see
Blood and roses, guns and grief
Bring him in and lay him down
John, bring the surgeons gloves and gowns!
Through the black suits darting to and fro
I could see her shaking and alone
“John-John put that bullet back
And offer Mrs. Kennedy your hand
Hold it tight ‘till her cryin’s done
And don’t look back, I won’t be long…”
I brought fresh linen for the President
I watched the doctors pronounce him dead
Then a light voice said, “Is this your son?
He held my hand and my cryin’s done.”
Then John-John said, “You better get along,
You’ve got a birthday to plan when you get home…”
She bent down and kissed my John-John’s face
Smoothed her bloody dress into place
And with her son’s love as her staff
She lifted a nation upon her back
She turned and nodded, we nodded back
As they carried her husband from Parkland… John-John put that bullet back!
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