He That Is Here

You've tried more than enough for me, there's no point in wasting your breath
For he who you knew is no more, he's gone for good, so save the wreath
For he who is now here is nothing more than a take up of space
An occupant of an accumulation of pain, a disgrace

To what you'd consider a pride, a long line of hard-working folks
Who possess the mentality of certain destinies of work
He who is here is a prisoner of a troubled dark state of mind
Enclosed in a prison of guilt and shame, who's peace is hard to find

He who is here does not believe that existence is all he's worth
The self-esteem is non existent, aimless paths he treads on, forth
The son you had is lost to the world that you had warned him about
And what is left is lower than a beggar, worth less than a tout

So save your energy and breathe, for time is passing him on by
This waste of space and dust and air will lead to tears and make you cry
Carry on with the path you chose and maybe hope for the best, pray
That maybe he that is here now will hopefully find peace one day

Copyright © 2010 Anthony Phillips (DUNTEE)