Same brown eyes, trademark smirk,
Oh yes, you’ve got the family curse.
Straight A student, the best friend.
A perfect poker hand.
Cause everyone applauds you when you’ve won.
After all, you are your father’s son.

Daddy dearest drunken stumbles home.
Hear Momma cry, cause she’s so alone.
And the arguments? The lover’s spats?
Remember, they’d end in swears, can still hear the slaps.
In the morning, try to act like there’s nothing wrong.
Momma mutters how you wrote the cutest song
And Daddy looks at you and slurs his words- You know the ones.
“After all, you are your father’s son.”

Years later now and Papa’s dead.
Swore you’d never be so sick in the head.
Met a girl you’d kill to have on your arm.
Wooed her with the old family charm.
Promised you she be Your One.
After all, you are your father’s son.

Years later still and you’ve got a kid.
Wifey pretends not to see the bottles under the bed
And your nightlife paid for by the bottle.
Drink the worm that’s in the bottom.
Motel si/ex with a bottle blonde.
After all, you are your father’s son.

Wake up, deep breath, cold sweat, alone.
Reach for Wifey, but she’s not at home.
She hasn’t been for three long years.
Took baby boy before he hears
Those loaded words, that loaded gun;
“After all, you are your father’s son.”   

How is it to be what you hated most?
Tell me, what’s it feel like to be a ghost?
Haunting all of your regrets.
The grief, a wound that’s always fresh.
Do you hate the mirror when it’s all said and done?
After all you are your father’s son.