Children who watch their fathers rise to work each day
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Becoming bitter as they piss their lives away
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Out of balance as he stumbles to the porch
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Too young to recognize the passing of the torch
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And so they cry (in fear)
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They wonder why (not here)
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The cycle punctuates an atmosphere of pain and lies
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It gets to where one never knows what to expect
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A bedtime story or a broken nose or neck
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They take it in and take it on
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Like they've been shown
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It goes on and on and
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Too many sterile homes without a thing to say
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A generation losing innocence this way and
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No recognition of the bridges as they burn
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Just repetition of behaviors they have learned
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And so they cry (in fear)
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They wonder why (not here)
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We tip the fragile scales of temperament and guilt
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Too soon mistaken for the will that makes us strong
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But looking back it's just the shame we pass along
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My dreams too often true
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I will never be the same as you
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Born dead to live a lie
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Shut down when I see you cry
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Torches And Tragedies
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| Good Riddance |
