I remember the day that mother sat me down. She said "son I love you so”.

That was the day that mother skipped town and left us all alone.

My father broke down, started to cry, I found a little corner in my little house to hide.

That was the day, that was the day, that I learned how to run away.

Well I learned how to fly at a really young age. When I hit the ground, I hit it hard.

So lungs in my friends bedroom, instead of playing in the schoolyard.

We were kings, we were only fourteen, and our health sure as hell didn't mean a thing.

That was the day, that was the day, that I learned how to run away.

I remember the day that my father wouldn't wake. Man it shook me around.

I called his name but he didn't get up. He was lying there on the ground.

I punch the walk, broke my hand, my body was shaking I could barely stand.

That was the day, that was the day, that I learned how to run away.

That was the day, that was the day, that I learned how to run away.