Children who watch their fathers rise to work each day

Becoming bitter as they piss their lives away

Out of balance as he stumbles to the porch

Too young to recognize the passing of the torch

And so they cry (in fear)

They wonder why (not here)

The cycle punctuates an atmosphere of pain and lies

It gets to where one never knows what to expect

A bedtime story or a broken nose or neck


They take it in and take it on

Like they've been shown

It goes on and on and


Too many sterile homes without a thing to say

A generation losing innocence this way and

No recognition of the bridges as they burn

Just repetition of behaviors they have learned


And so they cry (in fear)

They wonder why (not here)

We tip the fragile scales of temperament and guilt

Too soon mistaken for the will that makes us strong

But looking back it's just the shame we pass along


My dreams too often true

I will never be the same as you

Born dead to live a lie

Shut down when I see you cry