Children who watch their fathers rise to work each day   Becoming bitter as they piss their lives away   Out of balance as he stumbles to the porch   Too young to recognize the passing of the torch   And so they cry (in fear)   They wonder why (not here)   The cycle punctuates an atmosphere of pain and lies   It gets to where one never knows what to expect   A bedtime story or a broken nose or neck      They take it in and take it on   Like they've been shown   It goes on and on and      Too many sterile homes without a thing to say   A generation losing innocence this way and   No recognition of the bridges as they burn   Just repetition of behaviors they have learned      And so they cry (in fear)   They wonder why (not here)   We tip the fragile scales of temperament and guilt   Too soon mistaken for the will that makes us strong   But looking back it's just the shame we pass along      My dreams too often true   I will never be the same as you   Born dead to live a lie   Shut down when I see you cry