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Lost in your own head, but then a knock at the door. |
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Put down that drink, your steps creaking the floor. |
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Go and get the gun, distract yourself from death. |
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Back against the door, your hands are starting to sweat. |
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Slowly cock the gun, slowly move to the side, slowly turn the handle, slowly open it wide. |
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You catch a glimpse of his face. |
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Your heart sinks in your chest; your hands start to shake because you know that it's him. |
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Just the coward and you standing silent, dead air. |
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So you pull him inside into your father's chair. |
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"Your addict mother is dead, all thanks to you. |
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Her addiction got worse after you left you damn fool. |
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What you did to our father, I promised you'd pay up. |
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I'm going to take your life, but it don't feel like enough." |
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Cold steel to his head, walk him to his death. |
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Walk him down past the white oak doors. |
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Walk him out past the boardwalk and your old shipyard. |
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Your pistol in his side, make him pay. |
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On the outskirts of town, pass the old quarry now. |
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Walk him down to those cold steel tracks. |
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You stumble drunk with the gun in his back. |
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"Now get down on your knees on the tracks where you shamed me. |
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But this time, the dodge ain't going to end so pretty. |
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Either a bullet or that train steaming just ahead is going to end your days. |
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You coward little kid." |
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You sit and you stir, while he waits for his death. |
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You'll never forgive him, and you never did forget. |
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He'll never see the sun again. |
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Make him pay off his debt. |
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Stand on those tracks, cold steel under your feet, barrel to his temple. |
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"Your addict mother, you will soon re-meet," you whisper in his ear, |
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Feel his whole body shake. |
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In an instant he's got your arm, |
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He's got your gun, you're held down by his weight. |
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You feel the cold steel above and below. |
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You feel your stomach tie in knots as the train whistle blows. |
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You feel the warm of the blood where the barrel digs in. |
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From your cheek to your mouth, you taste the sweat and the tin. |
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You don't cry, you don't beg. |
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You've been waiting for this. |
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For the coward, or for death, just to see your wife again. |
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That train is so close, so loud and so clear. |
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Your hands stop shaking and it's all that you hear. |
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Just like father. |
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"You took him. If this is how it's going to be then I would rather die at the hands of my own family." |
