 |
|
 |
 |
|
|
Dan Hill - Memories (Revisited)
|
|
Memories of when I was a little boy, four years old,
Waiting for my daddy to come home,
And now I look into the eyes of my own son,
Wondering what he's thinking of,
Waiting at the window when I come home.
Watch his eyes fill up with joy and wonder.
He reaches out his tiny hands;
I feel the bond 'tween boy and man.
Memories of my mom cryin', my daddy gone for weeks at a time,
Not knowing how to comfort her,
Facin' my pillow, pretendin' not to hear.
Now I write this letter to my little boy.
I'm far away, not knowing really what to say
Except, "I'm sorry, oh so sorry."
I don't want to make these same
Mistakes my daddy made with me.
Still his voice rolls off my tongue
When I say, "Boy, protect your mom."
Memories of my wife crying on the phone
Wonderin' when I'm coming home.
My voice sounds detached and cold,
Reminds me of someone that I knew;
He had a funny attitude
When I needed him to be
All the things only a daddy could be to me.
And I don't want to make the same
Mistakes my daddy made with me.
Still his voice rolls off my tongue
When I say, "Not now, I'm busy son."
Memories of lying in bed with my wife and son,
Overwhelmed by so much love,
Tryin' to explain how a man can cry
Yet still be happy,
Thinking of all the dumb mistakes I've made.
Now I understand my father's pain;
He did the best with what he knew.
I love you daddy.
I watched my son fall asleep
And wonder what he'll think of me
When years from now he sees his son
Reaching out his tiny hands for love.
|
|
Wszelkie prawa do prezentowanych tekstów posiadają ich autorzy.
Tekst jest prezentowany wyłącznie do celów edukacyjnych.
dodał: Administrator
czytano: 601 razy
|
Fragment na dzis:
Pidżama Porno : Ulice jak stygmaty
Wieki całe Zbawiciela czekali
A gdy ów się już narodził
czym prędzej go ukrzyżowali, psychopaci
kopiący groby waszej wiary
kopiący groby waszej wiary
Klerykalna zaraza jest wytworem szatana
Tak jak podłość i nienawiść dookoł-
|
a ołtarza
Piętno krzyża przypisane dla każdego
W imię Ojca i Syna i Ducha Świętego
W imię Ojca i Syna i Ducha Świętego
My tutaj tacy słabi
Tacy jak ci, co go krzyżowali
Świeci, kaci, ich ofiary
A w kwestii wiary
Poboż-
|
ne baranki, błędni rycerze
czynią posty, odmawiają pacierze
że aż czasem czuję swąd
z inkwizycyjnych stosów
My tutaj tacy słabi
Tacy jak ci, co go krzyżowali
Świeci, kaci, ich ofiary
A w kwestii wiary
Pobożne baranki, b....
|
|
|
 |
TEKSTY WEDŁUG WYKONAWCY
