Jonah Matranga. Fathers & Daughters. Zeneszám

I'm always crying on planes.

I'm wondering how birds find their way.

There are so many things I don't understand.

What makes a women not love a man that loves her?



I think I should just be alone.

I think I should find my way home.

There are wires and maps that were given to me,

By my mother and father that let me believe what I wonder.



Fathers and daughters, mothers and sons.

What came before and what wil go on?

The memory of the night, the question of dawn,

In some little way one saves the next,

And this the way we go on.



I can't even figure out friends.

It no wonder Gods words get bent.

Through ego and fear, the liquor and sex.

Some folks believe they're the special and next thing to save us.



But there's no way that we save ourselves.

That's like beleiveing in hell.

Clumsy and mean, confused and free.

But maybe we learn from the traps that we lay when they hurt us.



I am a world from my girl,

And I try to show her the world.

But some of the failers that warns of the past

If I let in the lessons she might learn to out last all my errors.



Fathers and daughters, mothers and sons.

What came before and what wil go on?

The memory of the night, the question of dawn,

In some little way one saves the next.

And this the way we go on.

This is the way we go on.

This is the way we go on.