When the dewdrops fall
on the rocky hard surface
of your grandparents face
as they find out what you're made of
drugs and ***, *** and drugs
is all you've been doing
to survive through the pain
of endless torture, aren't we all the same?
We look for the highs, we search for the lows
trying to determine what is our worth?
When the dewdrops fall
on your weathered parents faces
the stress that you've caused
make their hair gray in places
but they still adore you
through and through
until the end of time.