|
Day is dawning, almost sounded like a warning |
|
Wind was rushing through the trees almost roaring |
|
I never thought that |
|
I'd become |
|
The proud father of my three sons |
|
Here's a fragment between the shame and the sentiment |
|
For all the years that |
|
I might have been absent |
|
I can't do what can't be undone |
|
Oh no, my three sons |
|
I love you more than |
|
I can sayWhat |
|
I give to one |
|
The other cannot take away |
|
I bless the day you came to be |
|
With everything that is left to me |
|
Here's your pillow, go to sleep and |
|
I will follow |
|
May you never have any more sorrows |
|
That's not something you can count upon |
|
Still I want it for my three sons |
|
My, my, my three sons |
|
Deep in the night |
|
I turn cold and sick |
|
But I only curse arithmetic |
|
I bless the day that you came to be |
|
With everything that is left to me |
|
Day is closing, old men and infants are dozing |
|
That's the kind of life |
|
I've chosen |
|
Just see what |
|
I've become |
|
The humble father of my three sons |
|
The humbled father of my three sons |