If you’d really loved me,
Would you stab me over and over
In the same place that I hid from everyone but you?
Was it too naive of me to ask for love,
Like you once did, but your father would resist too.
You know it's messed up when distance is the only pill
For the mental abuse.
Now you sit at the bank, sipping whiskey,
While the churning waters from Lake Fiona haunt you.
The moon is your only ally
In your darkest hours.
You walk through the woods and call it solitude,
But you haven't yet fought the ghosts,
They resemble something you've longed for all along.
Now you walk alone in resentment because no one is reaching out for you,
But when I did,
You sucked the life out of me, just like he would.
It's a misery, something you don't choose.
I've swum these waters and almost drowned twice.
I've bled so much blood.
I've loved you with scars in my hands,
Scars from your bullet tongue,
And from when I hid under the blanket,
silently watching your tall silhouette disappear.
No goodbyes, no letters,
But I'd still wait by the door,
Was a little kid,
And every doorbell was a siren,
I could only hope it was somehow you again.
And they said good riddance always,
but you are my hiraeth.
Hate to say this, but why did you leave me?
But when you reached out, I did the same.
Now I despise mirrors because I see your face.
There's satin darkness and years of dread
That I spent looking for love in all the wrong places.
It's a misery, it follows you.
I still miss home; I wander in these woods.
But I've come to know
There's no map to a place called home,
Because it's something you have or you don't.
But I still linger, linger, linger all the time,
Like the whiskey in your hands.
Ghostly trees and your torn picture from the family portrait,
I still have it in my drawer; it's a secret.
I decorate it with tears.
Hate to admit it.
It's a misery; it haunts you.
But you've bled dry too,
And I'm just another shade of rue like you.
I needed you,
Sleepless nights, stolen bliss, hiding corners,
You're my hiraeth, but the eerie one.
I imagined us on the telephone,
Your voice echoes,
As I grip my dress.
It says, "I'm sorry,"
And I say I'm sorry too.
I gather the strength to let go,
And I say to you,
"Dad, I've missed you.
Dad, I needed you."
Now I'm on the porch, ruminating.
Lonesome moon,
Do you care too?
It's a misery, something you don't choose.
It's a misery, it follows you.
It's a misery, something you don't choose.
It's a misery, it haunts you.
The streaming waters from Lake Fiona haunt you.
They haunt you.
They haunt you.
They haunt you.
And they haunt me too.