My mother she is dying
and my father he is old,
both of them are trying so hard to hold.
Tired, tired is their love,
but push has come to shove,
push has come to shove.
Laughter there was plenty,
many years ago,
but now their lives are empty
and the joy it doesn't show.
Sorry, they both try to say,
but pride gets in the way,
pride gets in the way.
Why won't the rain come and wash away
all the sin and the blood?
Or buried we will stay
below the guilt, below the shame,
covered up with malice and mud, malice and mud.
The children they are growing,
lessons being learned.
The truth it is showing,
the consequences earned.
Hopeless, they all try to find,
a little piece of mind,
a little piece of mind.
The tree it is falling,
falling to the ground.
The family it is calling,
without any sound.
Feelings, they will start to fade,
along with promises made,
promises made.
Why won't the rain come and wash away
all the sin and the blood?
Or buried we will stay
below the guilt, below the shame,
covered up with malice and mud, malice and mud.
Let our angry hearts go,
let the wounded parts show,
let our own worse fears call,
let all of our tears fall,
Let them fall,
Let them fall.
Why won't the rain come and wash away?