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 defense.

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 okay.

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.