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The Lawrence Arms
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The Old Timer's 2x4
Walking dead on two burned feet
Do you have anything left to say to me?
From barber chairs and baseball gloves
To calling names and slaps and drugs
From son, you could have been someone
To hey there, meet my only son
Lost in the mail for a convenient month.
A graduation unattended 500 miles, 500 days
We'll never talk,
Let's count the ways we fake it over every break
And you kick yourself for making this mistake
Actions dismantle litigation
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And I thought this would be easier for me
Another forced smile on vacation
Another disappointment paves itself into a two way street
And I see you inside myself
I want to climb out of my skin
I see you in myself every day and once again,
I was the worst mistake,
Your connection to a thirty year hate
I tried hard not to believe it
I'll try harder not to feel it
Here's to you ya old bastard
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