Mouths to feed, wont sleep till he arrives, so he brings his work home.
Late nights waste away plotting a plan, tracing the steps he needs to take,
Till he says, "my job is done, your old enough it's time to leave this home,
And go on your own, I know it's hard, but it's not my problem anymore, not anymore."
Eyes closed children rest unaware, so he keeps their lights dim.
And angels hold their tongues above, with the scowl shaking their fist,
When he says, "my job is done, your old enough it's time to leave this home,
And go on your own, I know it's hard, but it's not my problem anymore, not any more."
My job is done, your old enough, it's time to leave this home.
And go on your own, we had our run now you're old enough to go down your track,
So don't look back, I know it's hard, but it's not my problem anymore, not any more.