I remember
When your dad was falling down
I should have told you
To be smart
To never follow him to the ground
But then he died
On that cold heart sunday morning
The bells were shining
But they never made a sound
You wished you told him
That all those things that fell through his hands then
That you could have given them back
To him
I remember
When you were bleeding out the lines
I should have told you
That your dad still was cold as ice
But then you died and a warm bright sunday morning
The bells were shining and they played for everyone
I wish I told you that all those things that fell through your hands then
That I could have given them back to
Back to you.
Back to you.
Oh back to.
That I could have given them back to you.
