But Breathing
Unwanted, but breathing.
In the next room, sleeping.
My mother, she’s crying and my father’s been drinking.
In our run down apartment, where the roof is still leaking.
He’s cursing and cussing, it’s just the whiskey talking.
I’ve got lots of memories like this one.
Of empty days and nights spent tired and lonesome.
When I think back to all of it,
Well it’s all too much,
Well it’s all too much when you’re just a little kid.
My little brother, just a newborn baby.
In the image of my mother, she says he’s a blessing.
But not to my father, oh how he hates him.
“An undeserving mistake.” He calls him a burden.
I’ve got lots of memories like this one.
Of picking sides and picking fights between them.
When I think back to all of it,
Well it’s all too much,
Well it’s all too much when you’re just a little kid.
When I wake up in the morning it all feels like a bad dream,
One that follows you and haunts you endlessly.
Yeah haunts me endlessly.