I’m sorry we fight so much
Late at night
Sleep deprived
Hungover on old memories and faces
Wishing that it was 1972
Mary’s dead and gone
Peter's in rehab
And the baby eloped
I’m sorry I didn’t tell you
I don’t blame you anymore
I know you tried
working overtime brought in the goods
but we were loosing the kids
Weekly trips to the hair salon and Dairy Queen
made them smile a lot
but it was all out of fear
We should have listened when it was time to be quiet
Give out hugs on the daily instead of beatings
Hold them close instead of locking them indoors

I guess what I am trying to say is that I am sorry