The Living Years

Russ Lee

Composição de: B.A. Robertson/Mike Rutherford
Every generation 
Blames the one before 
And all of their frustrations 
Come beating on your door 
I know that I'm a prisoner 
To all my father held so dear 
I know that I'm a hostage 
To all his hopes and fears 
I just wish I could have told him 
In the living years 

Crumbled bits of paper 
Filled with imperfect thought 
Stilted conversations 
I'm afraid that's all we've got 
You say you just don't see it 
He says it's perfect sense 
You just can't get agreement 
In this present tense 
We all talk a different language 
Talking in defense 
Say it loud 
Say it clear 
You can listen as well as you hear 
It's too late 
When we die 
To admit we don't see eye to eye 

So we open up a quarrel 
Between the present and the past 
We only sacrifice the future 
It's the bitterness that lasts 
So don't yield to the fortunes 
You sometimes see as fate 
It may have new perspective 
On a different day 
And if you don't give up 
And don't give it 
You just might be OK 

I wasn't there that morning 
When my father passed away 
I didn't get to tell him 
All the things I had to say 
I think I caught his spirit 
Later that same year 
I'm sure I heard his echo 
In my baby's new born tears 
I just wish I could have told him 
In the living years
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