Is a dad a voice in the back round when there is too much noise?
A man to yell when you have not picked up your toys?
Is he a man that says that he loves you, but only to his friends?
The man you did not want home again, you wanted the pain to end?
Is he the man six feet under torn asunder?
Not hearing his voice is like rain with no thunder.
Dancing through the pedals dealing death to all who know,
The little boy runs, and runs, but his feet will never go.
His brain has shut down, his soul is buried underground,
No tears ran down his face, because his suffering made no sound.
She is high in the other room, the other man is drinking alone,
The boy has to pay for sins, he did not need to atone.
The screaming demons keep him up at night,
His heart is so cold it does not cause him a fright.
Dancing through the pedals dealing death as if it was his friend,
Now he stares at the rope wondering if he should end life's loose end.
Father is gone and the cycle of the body has begun,
Walking alone at midnight, you forget there is a sun.
This was a story about my father, then it became a story about my pain,
Every single day is another fight to be sane.
The boy turned into a man, and that man into a beast,
It is just the monsters pain never ceased.
Dancing through the pedals dealing death, as if he did not exist,
The boy, the man, and the beast, all wish they were not on the devils list.
