Mother, Father, I'm doing OK

On the other side of the country, far away

And though I know the things that you want to hear me say

Sometimes these things are hard

Mother, Father, I am your son

Right down to the long thin pointed face

And this muddled up and twisted tongue

And now I find that I'm doing

All those things you would have done

Sometimes these things are hard

Ch: So do I thank you? Do I curse you?

These tracks stretch out before me - the ones you left behind

What I want and what I feel - it's yours, yours, not mine



Mother, Father, all those battles that have been

And the long, long silences that lay in between

Please don't try to tell me all those were in vain

Sometimes these things are hard

We line up at the wedding in rows of deep set eyes

In our finest formal dresses and proper suits and ties

Like a family of Munsters in a really bad disguise

Ch: So do I thank you? Do I curse you?

These tracks stretch out before me - the ones you left behind

What I want and what I feel - it's yours, yours, not mine