Your boots are laced. You’re clocking in. So you can look forward to lunch again. You make dinero for the kids. They don’t appreciate a thing you did.
She’s running all around with everyone in town. You’re trying not to let that bring you down. You still get up and grind every single day thinking “how the hell did things turn out this way?”
Your wife is out. Your kids’ are in bed. So you can drink until your face gets red. Think about the life you could have had. What things were like before you were a dad.
You try to make a living and they just don’t care. Hoping that you can find true love elsewhere. And now you’re left at home with responsibilities thinking “how the hell did this happen to me?
There must be more than this. (more)To life. What did I miss?
And it’s a sin. Your time’s begun. So you can just forget about having fun. On your hands, count the wars you’ve won. You haven’t even used a thumb.
I built this on my own. A place to call a home.
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