Fathers hands were lined with dirt From long days in the field And mothers hands are serving meals In a café on Main Street With mouths to feed Just trying to keep clothing on our backs And all I hear about is And how it's so bad, it's so bad It's too bad, it's stupid Too late, so wrong, so long It's too bad that we had no time to rewind Let's walk, let's talk Let's talk
You left without saying goodbye Although I'm sure you tried You call the house from time to time To make sure we're alive But you weren't there Right when I'm needed you the most And now I dream about it And how it's so bad, it's so bad
Father's hands are lined with guilt For tearing us apart Guess it turned out in the end Just look at where we are We made it out, we still got clothing on our backs And now I scream about it And how it's so bad, it's so bad