He dug me a grave
So I planted a tree
He sent me a wave
So I sailed out to sea

And to see what he throws
I must be quick on my feet
To catch hold of my breath
Before he takes hold of me

Now I'm in the hole
Where he left me to die
So throw me the rope
As I say my goodbye

But not to my life.

No, not to my life.

The rope 'round my waist
Not my neck, as I climb
I wave goodbye to him
For the very last time

Cling to me and I’ll pull you in close

Cling to me when you need me the most

Cling to me and I’ll keep my hold

You can cling to me tightly

I’m not letting go.

They’re asking for comparisons
But a father can’t compare his sons
And they’ll call until the morning sun
But he’ll protect every one of them

Like a building stands on tens of tons
Not on one brick but the sum of them
As an artist’s craft is never done
Discarding not a single one

The works build up the firm foundation
A mental shelter, found salvation
Rich and poor, they form a nation
A state of mind, the mind’s creation

So when they ask “will you stop your run?”
I’ll let them know I’ve just begun
Cause they’re asking for comparisons
But a father won’t compare his sons