|
The daughter's father watches, quietly we assume |
|
He's no longer with us, but he left this dusty room |
|
And your name and it's an honor |
|
It's a shame but it's your honor |
|
To take it on your shoulder |
|
'Till you can find another |
|
That's enough for now |
|
He should have never left you broken |
|
He should have held you |
|
Things your father never could do |
|
That's enough for now |
|
He would have never left you broken |
|
He would have held you |
|
Things your father never told you |
|
The century before you, never could turn twenty-one |
|
Years and years he waited, just watching for a son |
|
Someone to go ahead, to take the name instead |
|
Years and years he waited, and a daughter came instead, but |
|
That's enough for now |
|
He should have never left you broken |
|
He should have held you |
|
Things your father never could do |
|
That's enough for now |
|
He would have never left you broken |
|
He would have held you |
|
Things your father never told you |
|
Except for twice |
|
One begins and one's goodbye |
|
Sixty years of sorrow, he got five or six of bliss |
|
Left my mothers' mother |
|
Without so much as a kiss |
|
As a kiss |
|
But that's enough for now |
|
He never wanted to leave you broken |
|
He would have held you |
|
Things your father never told you |
|
That's enough for now |
|
I would have never left you broken |
|
I would have held you |
|
Words your father never told you |
|
Sixty years of sorrow, you got five or six of bliss |
|
Left my mother's mother |
|
Without so much as a kiss. |
