| Sixty-five years must’ve been too much to bear
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| For an insecure black man livin' on the verge of despair
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| Too much resentment and too much hate
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| From which there can be no easy escape
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| It’s too late, there’s nothing left to give
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| Not for your woman, you got nothin' for your kids
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| It’s too late, there’s nothing left to hide
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| So you go your way, and I’ll go mine
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| 2nd Verse
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| My father and I don’t get along
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| He’s always right, I’m always wrong
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| We never talk… he'd rather hide
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| Preening his pride and pruning mine
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| It’s too late, there’s nothing left to give
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| Not for your woman, you got nothin' for your kids
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| It’s too late, there’s nothing left to hide
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| So you go your way, and I’ll go mine
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| Bridge
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| I tried to talk to him, to go beyond the insults and lies
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| Depending on the love to keep the family alive
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| He said, «I don’t wanna talk on account of the pressure of my blood»
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| I said, «Can't we talk on account of love ««I'm reaching out to you»
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| He said, «Don't reach out to me»
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| «But I love you! |
| I love you! |
| Dad… don't you love me?»
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| He stared straight ahead at the basketball game on his precious TV
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| And he never even opened his mouth…
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| He never even opened his mouth to me… and now
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| It’s too late, there’s nothing left to give
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| Not for your woman, you got nothin' for your kids
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| It’s too late, there’s nothing left to hide
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| So you go your way, and I’ll go mine
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| You go your way, you go your way…
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| And I’ll go mine |