The Son
I was born into a living hell
Where mother placed the blame on everybody but her self
She’s full of fire sparked like a lighter around gasoline
Every night before she went to sleep she would sharpen her tongue on her pointed teeth
She could spit daggers into the heart of any man
But up in this tree on loose boards for miles I could see
The sun softly set behind the trailer park oh why does the sky go dark
My old man didn’t pay much attention to me
He spent his nights in front of the TV cheering on his favorite sons
And cursing the referee
He didn’t drink but sometimes I wish that he did
Cause for then I’d have a chance evading his fists
He was a fighter his jaw clenched tighter as he ran after me
But up in this tree on loose boards he will never catch me
Its fickle and it breaks but its mine and mine to keep
it keeps me safe from the war below
it keeps me safe Ill just call this home
Home…
(Don’t you fret don’t you fear I will be always here my son oh my son
Come rest your tired bones on me just enjoy the scenery my son oh my son)
