It's a little past supper time
I'm still out on the porch steps sittin' on my behind
Waiting for you.
Wondrin' if everything's alright
Moma said,"Come in boy, don't waste your time,"
I said,"I've got time. Well he'll be here soon."
Five years old and talkin' to myself.
Where were you? Where'd ya go? Daddy can't you tell?I'm not tryin' to fake it, and I ain't the one to blame.
No, there's no one home in my house of pain.
I didn't write these pages and my script's been re-arranged.
No, there's no one home in my house of pain.
Wasn't I worth the time?
A boy needs a daddy like a dance to mime and all the time
Ilooked up to you.
I paced my room a million times.
And all I ever got was one big line, the same old lie.
How could you?
Well I was eighteen years and still talkin' to myself.
Where were you? Where'd ya go? Daddy can't ya tell?
**end**
Well if i've learned anything from this, shh, it's how to grow up
on my own.
