| His bag was as close to me | |
| As the memory of his father and me | |
| But he moved it away before | |
| I had the chance to look into it at all | |
| His reaction was an eye full | |
| But I still had my mouth full | |
| And I couldn't tell the truth | |
| We had everything to loose | |
| So I stood on a cigarette | |
| And decided we hadn't finished yet | |
| I should tell him before I forget | |
| I'm surprised he hasn't guessed it yet | |
| Take your pity and sympathy | |
| 'Cos there is nothing wrong with me | |
| The crutch of his wrinkled hand | |
| Clutched my spine and | |
| it wrecked me fine | |
| Black fingernails dug in | |
| I was wrenching and he cracked a grin | |
| I was frail I was painfully thin | |
| I never found my safety net | |
| Take your pity and sympathy | |
| 'Cos there is nothing wrong with me |
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