Father’s Day

What I wouldn't give for a burnt round of toast

And a cold cup of tea on the side

What I wouldn't give for a card bought by our mum

With a scribble that you'd written there inside

What I wouldn't give to stop those Bunnings ads

Saying, "Tell your dad you love him with a drill"

Only reminds me of things I can't fix

And holes in my life I can't fill

Hope someday waiting to hear from you, son

Thinking of us on a Father's Day gone

What I wouldn't give to tell you twenty times

To pick those towels up from the bathroom floor

What I wouldn't give for a call at 3 a.m.

With a "Hey dad, can you come and take me home?"

And what I wouldn't give to hear your voice again

Even in another screaming fight

Silence reminds me of things I regret

And words said in anger and spite

Hope someday waiting to hear from you, son

Thinking of us on a Father's Day gone

What I wouldn't give for a hug you used to give

Before you grew and learned to pull away

To kick 'round a ball, read in the bath to you

Wipe off the mud from your face

Your little hands used to linger in mine

Now all that I hold is a memory of Father's Days gone by