far be it for me to say you're loose son

for be it for me to say you're no one

i've heard your excuse, i've heard your excuses,

every one

you don't know what's going on

you don't know what's going on

my son

far be it for me to say you're brain dead

it might help if you get your ass out of bed

it twists me inside to see your girlfriend's backside

she get tongue-tied and run

you're my son, i'm older than you,

you can't be a man too

your hair's too long

get out of my home

papa, growing old

you're growing cold

you went to far

you crashed my car

i'm in a rage

get off of that stage....

o.k.


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