IRC-Galleria

It's a little past supper time
I'm still out on the porch
steps sittin' on my behind,
Waiting for you.
Wondrin' if everything's alright,
Moma said,"Come in boy,
don't waste your time,"
I said, "I've got time.
Well he'll be here soon."
Five years old and talkin' to myself.
Where were you?
Where'd ya go?
Daddy can't you tell?

I'm not tryin' to fake it,
and I ain't the one to blame.
No, there's no one home
in my house of pain.
I didn't write these pages
and my script's been re-arranged.
No, there's no one
home in my house of pain.
No, there's no one
home in my house of pain.

Wasn't I worth the time?
A boy needs a daddy
like a dance to mime and all the time,
I looked up to you.
I paced my room a million times.
And all I ever got was one big line,
the same old lie.
How could you?
Well I was eighteen years
and still talkin' to myself.
Where were you?
Where'd ya go?
Daddy can't ya tell?

I'm not tryin' to fake it,
and I ain't the one to blame.
No, there's no one home
in my house of pain.
I didn't write these pages
and my script's been re-arranged.
No, there's no one
home in my house of pain.
No, there's no one
home in my house of pain.

I'm not tryin' to fake it,
and I ain't the one to blame.
No, there's no one home
in my house of pain.
I didn't write these pages
and my script's been re-arranged.
No, there's no one
home in my house of pain.
No, there's no one
home in my house of pain.

I'm alone again.

No there's no one
home in my house of pain.
No there's no one
home in my house of pain.

Well if i've learned anything from this, shh, it's how to grow up
on my own.