Man, your ass is late again?
Not passionate about anything but being mad at him,
Up till he passed on. Your dads gone…
That man, he was my grandpa.
And he liked to write too.
The worse thing for me would be to end up just like you.
Who are you talking to anyway?
Every day, you find a way
To break away from madness.
Cracking beers to mask the tears.
Your hate replaces with sadness.
And Haley plays with matches just to burn away the fire.
My face is like my fathers and it looks just like a liar.
So as the mirrors turn black, it’s crystal clear what I have.
A family passed disease. I’m so uneasy I can’t stand.
If bad luck comes in threes, well then, I hope that I’m the last.
So that my children may be freed
Of the disease that was my dad’s.