TAR ON THE ROOF:
 

 

Man, the tar on the roof was still hot
From the heat of day
Well I'm laying up here thinking things over
Trying to clear my head
Through the open kitchen window down below
I can hear my mother and father shouting still
Dad saying, "I'm just about at my rope's end with that boy
I never understood him and I never will"

But I've seen him losing his temper
And it's funny how much we come out of the very same mold
I got the same mean streak in me and the same lonely something
Running through my soul
But there's something you need from your father
Some kind of hand on your shoulder, or something
Do you know what I mean
And if you don't get it, you end up looking for it
Everywhere, from everybody, in everything

I'm gonna wait 'til they get tired of talking and go to sleep
Before I go back down inside
And in the morning at breakfast
It'll be like nothing was even said
We'll just kind of let things slide

Man, the tar on the roof was still hot from the heat of the day
Well, I'm laying up here thinking things over trying to clear my head

 

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