There's a saltwater film on the jar of your ashes I threw them to sea but a gust blew them backwa
That you then inflicted was par for the course just as when you were living
It's no stretch to say you were not quite a father but a donor of seeds to a poor single mother that
Through the hole in your belly
Thirteen years old in the suburbs of denver
Standing in line for Thanksgiving dinner at the catholic chuch. the servers wore crosses
To shield from the sufferance plauging the others. styrofoam plates, cafateria tables charity reeks
And I'm thinking of you. I do every year
When we count all our blessings
And wonder what we're doing here
You're a disgrace to the concept of family
The priest won't divulge that fact in his homily and I'll stand up and scream
If the mourning remain quiet, you can deck out a lie in a suit but I won't buy it
I won't join in the procession that's speaking their peace. using five dollar words while praising h
© EMI BLACKWOOD MUSIC INC.; SHOVE IT UP YOUR SONGS; PLEASE PASS THE SONGS; WHERE I'M CALLING FROM MUSIC;
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