Last night my dad flew in from Maine on American Airlines.

He looks the same- but I heard a worry-a worry in his voice.


"Every time I come here, you gotta new lame job, a strung-out girlfriend

Where is your hope, what is your dream-I want to understand."



I said: "This is what I live for,

this is what I live for,

I know you can't see anything yet

but I'm trying to find the core

of what I live for."



"Come back soon- your family is dying to see you.

I want to help but I'm beginning to hate you.

If I'd behaved this way my dad woulda cracked me in two.



"I feel you slipping away,

I feel you slipping away,

I know the talk, I know the smells,

the druggy walk, the druggy hell.

You're slipping away."



"Dad I'll be fine, I'm trying hard, trying hard to find

a way to live, a way to love-I know I'm a little bit fucked up.



"This is what I live for,

this is what I live for,

I know you can't see anything yet

but I'm trying to find the core

of what I live for."

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