If only you could know the pain,
That comes in the dead of night,
When your stomach rises uncontrolled,
After your sensibilities have all taken flight.

To do what I must do,
Is taking more than what I’ve got,
And this old damaged heart of mine,
Feels as if it might suddenly stop.

What is a father,
If not the fix-it man,
So, imagine how it must finally feel,
When all that is left is to take a stand?

All of the hard earned dollars,
Given freely in a time of need,
Never solved any of your life problems,
And were so casually received.

Now my spirit flies,
Recklessly, and out of control,
For it seems that in our cold scientific world,
There is little to mend a wounded soul.

How can I correct your vision,
That sees not beyond this week,
And when, my dear, will you finally plan,
For a future which today looks so bleak?

The answers lie close before you,
But you must do more than open your eyes,
You must labor hard and sacrifice,
If you hope to do more than survive.

Love, sweet girl, can rescue you,
But in it, rancor plays no role,
And it is time to surrender your selfish ways,
And learn to exercise some control.

You have seen it, I know, for I showed you,
So please let those visions be your guide,
Consistently do what you know to be right,
And set your anger and guile aside.

Open your heart and speak the truth,
Say not what you think should be heard,
Speak of love and commitment,
Let there be honesty in every word.

Be not afraid, we’re here for you,
And on your room there is an open door,
You can pack your things and come home to us,
But, girl, you are destined for more.