There wasn't any love at home

Summer's tone frozen into winter's bones

Dis-attached, dis-connected living in a brick a brack junkyard of family trauma

The osmotic ink-stains blackened the aura

That's the bad pattern

That's your lad trapped on a bandwagon jam-packed with unhappy performers

What a performant

And nobody clapped for the sad clown

The sad sight of silence made me wanna put my hands out

Tell him it isn't your fault, kid

And listen, this is mid-winter, the solstice, it doesn't get any shitter than this

Who am I to sell a dream?

Tell 'im we could set 'im free

Probably best to forget it, leave and let 'im be

Shit gets to me

The hollow eyes ostracized from the beauty of life as a child

The begging need that hides behind even the tiniest smile and fails to be hidden

No I never, I didn't do it, what ever it is, and why won't anyone listen

That's what he's telling us, screaming and shouting

And there's me, thinking my life would be so peaceful without him

Shame on me

And I ain't gonna pussy-out and blame it on the parents or pretend I'm unaware that he don't need an education

He needs tender, loving care

Unaware of the path he's taking

And when I stare into these stars arrangements

That's the thought that crossed my mind

The astronaut who's lost inside his claustrophobic loneliness