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Time | Content | Gesture(s) |
00:00 → 00:03 | If I should have a daughter, |
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00:03 → 00:05 | instead of "Mom," |
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00:05 → 00:08 | she's gonna call me "Point B," |
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00:08 → 00:11 | because that way she knows that no matter what happens, |
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00:11 → 00:14 | at least she can always find her way to me. |
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00:14 → 00:17 | And I'm going to paint solar systems on the backs of her hands |
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00:17 → 00:20 | so she has to learn the entire universe |
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00:20 → 00:23 | before she can say, "Oh, I know that like the back of my hand." |
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00:23 → 00:25 | And she's going to learn |
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00:25 → 00:28 | that this life will hit you hard in the face, |
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00:28 → 00:31 | wait for you to get back up just so it can kick you in the stomach. |
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00:31 → 00:33 | But getting the wind knocked out of you |
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00:33 → 00:35 | is the only way to remind your lungs |
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00:35 → 00:37 | how much they like the taste of air. |
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00:37 → 00:39 | There is hurt, here, |
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00:39 → 00:41 | that cannot be fixed by Band-Aids or poetry. |
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00:41 → 00:43 | So the first time she realizes |
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00:43 → 00:45 | that Wonder Woman isn't coming, |
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00:45 → 00:47 | I'll make sure she knows |
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00:47 → 00:49 | she doesn't have to wear the cape all by herself |
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00:49 → 00:51 | because no matter how wide you stretch your fingers, |
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00:51 → 00:53 | your hands will always be too small |
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00:53 → 00:55 | to catch all the pain you want to heal. |
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00:55 → 00:57 | Believe me, I've tried. |
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00:57 → 00:59 | "And, baby," I'll tell her, |
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00:59 → 01:01 | don't keep your nose up in the air like that. |
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01:01 → 01:03 | I know that trick; I've done it a million times. |
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01:03 → 01:05 | You're just smelling for smoke |
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01:05 → 01:08 | so you can follow the trail back to a burning house, |
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01:08 → 01:10 | so you can find the boy who lost everything in the fire |
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01:10 → 01:12 | to see if you can save him. |
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01:12 → 01:16 | Or else find the boy who lit the fire in the first place, |
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01:16 → 01:18 | to see if you can change him." |
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01:18 → 01:20 | But I know she will anyway, |
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01:20 → 01:22 | so instead I'll always keep an extra supply |
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01:22 → 01:24 | of chocolate and rain boots nearby, |
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01:24 → 01:27 | because there is no heartbreak that chocolate can't fix. |
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01:28 → 01:30 | Okay, there's a few heartbreaks that chocolate can't fix. |
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01:30 → 01:32 | But that's what the rain boots are for, |
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01:32 → 01:36 | because rain will wash away everything, if you let it. |
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01:36 → 01:38 | I want her to look at the world |
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01:38 → 01:40 | through the underside of a glass-bottom boat, |
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01:40 → 01:42 | to look through a microscope |
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01:42 → 01:44 | at the galaxies that exist |
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01:44 → 01:46 | on the pinpoint of a human mind, |
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01:46 → 01:48 | because that's the way my mom taught me. |
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01:48 → 01:50 | That there'll be days like this. |
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01:50 → 01:53 | ♫ There'll be days like this, my momma said. ♫ |
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01:53 → 01:55 | When you open your hands to catch |
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01:55 → 01:57 | and wind up with only blisters and bruises; |
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01:57 → 02:00 | when you step out of the phone booth and try to fly |
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02:00 → 02:02 | and the very people you want to save |
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02:02 → 02:04 | are the ones standing on your cape; |
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02:04 → 02:06 | when your boots will fill with rain, |
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02:06 → 02:08 | and you'll be up to your knees in disappointment. |
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02:08 → 02:11 | And those are the very days you have all the more reason to say thank you. |
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02:11 → 02:13 | Because there's nothing more beautiful |
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02:13 → 02:16 | than the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline, |
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02:16 → 02:19 | no matter how many times it's sent away. |
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02:19 → 02:22 | You will put the wind in winsome, lose some. |
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02:22 → 02:24 | You will put the star |
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02:24 → 02:26 | in starting over, and over. |
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02:26 → 02:29 | And no matter how many land mines erupt in a minute, |
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02:29 → 02:31 | be sure your mind lands |
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02:31 → 02:33 | on the beauty of this funny place called life. |
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02:33 → 02:36 | And yes, on a scale from one to over-trusting, |
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02:36 → 02:38 | I am pretty damn naive. |
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02:38 → 02:41 | But I want her to know that this world is made out of sugar. |
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02:41 → 02:43 | It can crumble so easily, |
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02:43 → 02:46 | but don't be afraid to stick your tongue out and taste it. |
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02:46 → 02:49 | "Baby," I'll tell her, "remember, your momma is a worrier, |
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02:49 → 02:51 | and your poppa is a warrior, |
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02:51 → 02:53 | and you are the girl with small hands and big eyes |
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02:53 → 02:55 | who never stops asking for more." |
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02:55 → 02:57 | Remember that good things come in threes |
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02:57 → 02:59 | and so do bad things. |
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02:59 → 03:01 | And always apologize when you've done something wrong, |
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03:01 → 03:03 | but don't you ever apologize |
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03:03 → 03:06 | for the way your eyes refuse to stop shining. |
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03:06 → 03:09 | Your voice is small, but don't ever stop singing. |
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03:09 → 03:11 | And when they finally hand you heartache, |
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03:11 → 03:14 | when they slip war and hatred under your door |
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03:14 → 03:16 | and offer you handouts on street-corners |
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03:16 → 03:18 | of cynicism and defeat, |
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03:18 → 03:23 | you tell them that they really ought to meet your mother. |
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03:24 → 03:28 | Thank you. Thank you. |
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Hi, my name is Sam. I live in a village not far from Lancaster in the north-west of England. | | |