Sins of the Fathers
Encoded in the DNA
Of the sons
Guilt and disability
Whose fault is it, really?
During the times we see
The goodness of the world
It goes by so fast
The long dark nights
We recognize ennui
And cling to melancholy
It seems never to end
I'm sorry, son
If it hadn't have been this
It would have been something else
Of this I'm positive
But I know the feeling well
So I say again
Please forgive me