It’s hard to be a dad.
It’s hard to do the right thing.
It’s hard to know what the right thing is.
Sometimes you think you know.
But then you see you got it wrong.
It’s hard to be a dad.
It’s hard to do the right thing.
It’s hard to know what the right thing is.
Sometimes you think you know.
But then you see you got it wrong.

Throw away all the crap of the past
and live like pure people of the present?
This is not so violent as it sounds,
just as the little smiles
above unaccented syllables
are only suggestions of the pleasure
one gets from poetry.

And that leaves us.