A stumble starts the conversation
Leading us to confusing name tags
Standing up and addressing the room
A slur from my lips to God's ear
But he's not the only one who has to see and hear me

Acting like my life is a fog
Fearing the pressure of believing its true
I'm still alive, why aren't you?

I'm writing a letter meant for the only one I know
Its not self-addressed, and my wife is away
My child will find me lonely, sitting in a den
Wrapping the letter around my words and pens
A drink from the bottle of knowledge of light
A sip for inspiration, another states "Good Night"

"When comes the morning, and my head does ache
I'll inquire of the night before, what did I say?
I think I know me well enough to know
I shouldn't be aware of, what I planned to do
I'd take myself from your life if I only knew
What I must have said to you"

The ground shot six feet up to the air
The casket remained at the floor
Surrounded by dirt her home is closed in
A drink from the shoulder holster I hide
A face so clear and aware
A mind thats so rarely there

Awoken lying on the kitchen floor
By the crying taking place in the den
I move myself past the walls and shells
And I saunter, half-drunkenly in
My daughter is at the note, her tears dripping off
She told me what I wrote, and how it moved her so
We spoke so long we ran out of words
And fell asleep on the couch
Not since she was one year old
Have I seen her warm shoulder, not cold

A peice of paper, immortalized in emotion
Words washed to a faded grey, if your squint they read:
"In all the years I've watched you grow
I've stayed much too far away
I never was as good a father
As you were to me as a daughter"