My brother the photographer
Once told me
About his wild days
Oh the stories I could tell
About this man
My brother the photographer
When we were kids
Living in the hills
Oh how those hills rolled
How my brothers lived
Esspecially that one
My brother the photographer
Just my brother then
His dreams still undescovered
Living life as he wanted to then
Somehow he still manages now
To avoid the 9 to 5 push
The ticking of the clock
"Friggen boss. . ."
And all that
He never wishes he was elsewhere
Because he's doing what he loves
My brother the photographer
And when he hugs me
It feels strange
We don't need hugs or "I love you"s
To express how we feel
The way we sit in a room together
Never disagreeing about simple things
And when we do, it only brings us closer
No wonder I love
My brother the photographer