My Father
Sundays with My Father: A Tale of Redemption and Heartache
Lyrics
My father calls on Sunday evenings
Regularly, my father contacts me on Sunday evenings.
Children are suffering somewhere, living in a boldfaced lie
There are children enduring hardship, possibly living a deceitful existence.
And they all probably have my eyes
Speculation that those suffering might share physical resemblance with me.
My father says he's turned his life around
My father claims to have changed his life for the better.
The devil was dragging him down
He felt controlled or negatively influenced by evil forces.
But he prayed until the dark lord vanished
He prayed persistently until the malevolent entity disappeared.
Now his screenplay's almost finished
He's nearing completion of a screenplay.
My father's got great taste in ovaries
My father admires women's reproductive organs metaphorically, possibly implying he's attracted to women.
Over and over he's charmed his way into a nice girl's heart
Repeatedly, he's charmed his way into the affections of kind-hearted women, but leaves before things get difficult.
But he always leaves before the hardest part
He consistently departs before facing challenging situations.
You wonder how I got so feminine
Query about my femininity, possibly due to upbringing by a distant father.
Well, what have I learned about men?
Reflecting on the lessons learned about men from my father's behavior.
You laugh at that and I do too
We both find humor in the situation.
You say you're sad, but glad I told you
You claim to feel a mix of emotions after hearing my story.
And now I kiss your shoulder
An intimate gesture of affection towards you.
And now you stroke my hair
You reciprocate with a gesture of tenderness.
Your daddy buys you ice cream
Your father provides you with enjoyable, simple pleasures.
My daddy's on the welfare
Contrastingly, my father relies on welfare support.
My father swears we'll be together soon
Assurance from my father about us being reunited soon, but infrequent actual follow-through.
Maybe once in a blue moon he sends along a birthday present
Rarely, he sends a generic gift, though it feels clichéd.
It feels so trite, but hey, what doesn't?
Everything can feel overused or clichéd, including his gestures.
My father calls on Sunday evenings
Reiteration of my father's Sunday calls.
Pauses for effect and says, "Church was great today!"
He pauses theatrically, sharing his positive church experience.
My father calls on Sundays
Confirmation of his regular Sunday calls.
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