Father, Father!

About somebody growing up in a broken home.

Rather, father,
hold me tight
as we drive around this neighborhood
until day turns to night
The air cuts through our hair
as it disperses at many angles
when you cut the corners your grip tightens.
When distractions come our way your grunt
in a way appropriate for the situation
and veer off.
We race around this track,
around life,
like the con-artists of The Hearbreakers,
knowing that eventually we're gonna get caught.
Please, oh please Daddy,
let me go.
We're not going that fast
I... think I... can still jump
if you just let go now
Yeah, there are gonna be some scratches & bruises
but at least I will heal
if you just waive me now