a half century ago,

a child is raised
to have one of his own
it's life's funny way
of keeping me unknown

connected is the family tree
branches held so tight
won't break so easily
no matter all my might

maybe i'll be a science ****
or a mathematician
whatever it is, they say that
i'll be just like him

i said i have to come clean
i'm not who you want me to be
so i bought a can of gasoline
to burn this family tree

after the flame, after the ashes
the light starts to dim
i think, maybe my son will hate me
just like him