SINGING

Talking to himself about how to move and move on and he goes,
The charity of his own past to the present and he sings along the way the wind blows,
No one knows,
Never knowing order and waking up and only knowing how he breathes and it hurts,
The written words come right from his lungs, The past from the crash that still burns,
What hurts, what heals, what brings us back around here in the family room,
Right next to the anger that comes from the hatred from how his family showed love,
That dove has died and moved on,

Moved away and you think that he is just a talker walking towards a dream dead,
Dead well at least he has never taught hate,
Never woke up from saving souls because you were just late,
Just a job,
Just a way of getting your hand on everything you can understand,
Just a way of teaching your son how to be a man?
Hi dad I’m a man now and the lessons are learned,
Sorry I don’t see you that much but as I said lessons are learned,

You want him to be what you call strong and clean,
Put yourself up to a mirror old man and explain to yourself what you mean,
You have waged war against a dream from the beginning and you call your self my father,
Father of what? Lies to get me where you have been?
If this dies would it matter to you a bit?
If tomorrow I decided to quit would you give a shit?
How would you hold me through?
You never did in the past so lets leave it at that,
I maybe just angry today,
My mind may change in many ways,
And I may end up regretting my words but what more can I do to heal?
I love you dad but I can’t live in your jail,

C.

©brian c. Williams
System*Productions

SINGING