There's an apparition in my mother's kitchen
reads the paper before work as if nothing's missing
In a weak condition my mother listens
as he floats across the room in soft remission
There's a holy ghost in my Father's coat
with a tie and a note his employer wrote
He leaves before he can reach the door
disappears in a clear cold silent roar
Father please don't you worry about me
I may not be what you wanted of me
but when angels come to steal all my desires
and my boss uses me as his dream for hire
I'll leap across shadows of fire
Back in '82 my Father knew
there was no one in this world he had to answer too
Until the priest and judge bore a holy grudge
against young men living life all a bit too much
His mother cried and his father sighed
how it hurt to see them hurting with there empty pride
So he tied a dream around his neck
he did not know it was not his he did not check
Generations of martyrs and saints
crept up from behind with their noble complaints
and his angels came and took all his desires
and his boss used him as a dream for hire
now he stands in the shadows of fire
in houses shrouded by mist and time
in churches stagnant with decayed sunshine
each generation claiming to find
their own answers and reasons why
as fathers and mothers watch from behind
the cracked windshields of their long rides
to see the sad victory of civil war
of life bursting open like a violent storm
to run rampant and kick down doors
each son saying what was said before