Fathers hands were lined with dirt
From long days in the field
And mothers hands are serving meals
In a cafe on Main Street
With mouths to feed
Just trying to keep clothing on our backs
And all I hear about is
How its so bad, its so bad
Its too bad, Its stupid
Too late, so wrong, so long
Its too bad that we had no time to rewind
Lets walk, lets talk
Lets talk
You left without saying goodbye
Although Im sure you tried
You call the house from time to time
To make sure were alive
But you werent there
Right when Im needed you the most
And now I dream about it
How its so bad, its so bad
Fathers hands are lined with guilt
For tearing us apart
Guess it turned out in the end
Just look at where we are
Made it out, still got clothing on our backs
And now I scream about it
How its so bad, its so bad
No time, last one, lets go
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