Song | The Living Years |
Artist | Mike&the Mechanics |
Album | The Living Years |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
Every generation | |
Blames the one before | |
And all of their frustrations | |
Come beating on your door | |
I know that i'm a prisoner | |
To all my father held so dear | |
I know that i'm a hostage | |
To all his hopes and fears | |
I just wish i could have told him in the living years | |
Crumpled bits of paper | |
Filled with imperfect thought | |
Stilted conversations | |
I'm afraid that's all we've got | |
You say you just don't see it | |
He says it's perfect sense | |
You just can't get agreement | |
In this present tense | |
We all talk a different language | |
Talking in defence | |
Say it loud, say it clear | |
You can listen as well as you hear | |
It's too late when we die | |
To admit we don't see eye to eye | |
So we open up a quarrel | |
Between the present and the past | |
We only sacrifice the future | |
It's the bitterness that lasts | |
So don't yield to the fortunes | |
You sometimes see as fate | |
It may have a new perspective | |
On a different day | |
And if you don't give up, and don't give in | |
You may just be o.k. | |
Say it loud, say it clear | |
You can listen as well as you hear | |
It's too late when we die | |
To admit we don't see eye to eye | |
I wasn't there that morning | |
When my father passed away | |
I didn't get to tell him | |
All the things i had to say | |
I think i caught his spirit | |
Later that same year | |
I'm sure i heard his echo | |
In my baby's new born tears | |
I just wish i could have told him in the living years | |
Say it loud, say it clear | |
You can listen as well as you hear | |
It's too late when we die | |
To admit we don't see eye to eye |
Every generation | |
Blames the one before | |
And all of their frustrations | |
Come beating on your door | |
I know that i' m a prisoner | |
To all my father held so dear | |
I know that i' m a hostage | |
To all his hopes and fears | |
I just wish i could have told him in the living years | |
Crumpled bits of paper | |
Filled with imperfect thought | |
Stilted conversations | |
I' m afraid that' s all we' ve got | |
You say you just don' t see it | |
He says it' s perfect sense | |
You just can' t get agreement | |
In this present tense | |
We all talk a different language | |
Talking in defence | |
Say it loud, say it clear | |
You can listen as well as you hear | |
It' s too late when we die | |
To admit we don' t see eye to eye | |
So we open up a quarrel | |
Between the present and the past | |
We only sacrifice the future | |
It' s the bitterness that lasts | |
So don' t yield to the fortunes | |
You sometimes see as fate | |
It may have a new perspective | |
On a different day | |
And if you don' t give up, and don' t give in | |
You may just be o. k. | |
Say it loud, say it clear | |
You can listen as well as you hear | |
It' s too late when we die | |
To admit we don' t see eye to eye | |
I wasn' t there that morning | |
When my father passed away | |
I didn' t get to tell him | |
All the things i had to say | |
I think i caught his spirit | |
Later that same year | |
I' m sure i heard his echo | |
In my baby' s new born tears | |
I just wish i could have told him in the living years | |
Say it loud, say it clear | |
You can listen as well as you hear | |
It' s too late when we die | |
To admit we don' t see eye to eye |
Every generation | |
Blames the one before | |
And all of their frustrations | |
Come beating on your door | |
I know that i' m a prisoner | |
To all my father held so dear | |
I know that i' m a hostage | |
To all his hopes and fears | |
I just wish i could have told him in the living years | |
Crumpled bits of paper | |
Filled with imperfect thought | |
Stilted conversations | |
I' m afraid that' s all we' ve got | |
You say you just don' t see it | |
He says it' s perfect sense | |
You just can' t get agreement | |
In this present tense | |
We all talk a different language | |
Talking in defence | |
Say it loud, say it clear | |
You can listen as well as you hear | |
It' s too late when we die | |
To admit we don' t see eye to eye | |
So we open up a quarrel | |
Between the present and the past | |
We only sacrifice the future | |
It' s the bitterness that lasts | |
So don' t yield to the fortunes | |
You sometimes see as fate | |
It may have a new perspective | |
On a different day | |
And if you don' t give up, and don' t give in | |
You may just be o. k. | |
Say it loud, say it clear | |
You can listen as well as you hear | |
It' s too late when we die | |
To admit we don' t see eye to eye | |
I wasn' t there that morning | |
When my father passed away | |
I didn' t get to tell him | |
All the things i had to say | |
I think i caught his spirit | |
Later that same year | |
I' m sure i heard his echo | |
In my baby' s new born tears | |
I just wish i could have told him in the living years | |
Say it loud, say it clear | |
You can listen as well as you hear | |
It' s too late when we die | |
To admit we don' t see eye to eye |