Ma Père

Merry Christmas, Dad

Truly it is
Like Father like son
And maybe it's just me
That gives into these loud words

So for all that are to come
My sorry's are thrown to you
And I hope to say so
Through all gold and dust

But still, you held me
And you supported whatever work of art
That I never had with everything I need
So God, thank you for my freedom

Let us sing the family tune
So loud and a touch out of key
With fragile glass lungs and sky-cast eyes
"I'm alive, I'm alive"