Текст песни Lotor - Отец

Help me get back on my feet—I’ve fallen, and the vultures are circling.
Out here in the cold, it happens often—sometimes even your closest friend will turn on you.
Everyone around you couldn't care less; they’ve all got their own problems.
My brother and I—whatever we manage to swipe, we split it right down the middle.
Meanwhile, Mom has been holding back her tears for years now,
Begging me to keep my head straight: "Watch yourself, son—don't get mixed up in anything stupid."
I get it—my old classmates give me dirty looks;
We’ve got nothing to talk about anyway—they’re all so cocky and arrogant.
Letters you sent from prison are gathering dust in my desk drawer;
No one is immune to the grave, nor to the hand of fate.
I’m twenty years old now, but my head is still as empty as ever;
My peers got married ages ago—many of them even have kids now.
I’m getting a little weary of searching for "the one";
Sometimes I miss having your shoulder to lean on so much—
You would have offered advice, pointed out where I was going wrong.
A real man doesn't cry... but God, how I miss you, Dad.
If only we could bring back those the heavens have claimed...
Just give us one chance—one chance to look them in the eye,
To tell them just how deeply we miss them,
And to let them know that, down here on Earth, their loved ones are still grieving for them.
The clock keeps ticking, years go by, and people pass away;
Up there, a gray-haired man sits sketching out our destinies.
He takes the ones we need the most—the ones we call our parents;
In this endless cycle of life, we are merely spectators.
That’s just how it turned out: I grew up without a father, far away from my mother.
Cherish every single moment you have with your loved ones while they are near.
But we are conditioned to appreciate things only once we’ve lost them—
They give us their whole hearts and souls, yet we so often fail to notice.
Life is a cruel bitch, but that is simply how the world works;
You live on forever in our memories—we remember you, and we mourn. I learned early on what it meant to stand on my own two feet;
My mother taught me how to live, though I cycled through a host of friends.
I remember that phone call—"Stop whining, kid; your father is gone."
A lump slowly rose in my throat as a tear traced a path down my cheek.
Since then, I’ve kept my father’s words locked safe within my heart:
"Never hurt your mother, son; always be a good man."
If only I could bring back those whom the heavens have claimed—
Just grant me one single chance to look them all in the eye,
And tell them just how deeply I miss them,
And how, back here on earth, their loved ones still yearn for them.