November 16, 1973
The years fly by like the ever-passing breeze
And she still rises with the sun
She looks passed her own needs for those two boys she loves

Ten years, ten years is such a long time to find a way to say goodbye
In the attic of his mind are creaking floorboards and shattered glass
Dilapidating with time
Decaying, kept out of the light
Searching, for something, he knows that he can't find. (he can’t find)
But he still, but he still tries

“I can't help but remember, the feeling of hoping that it would all get better
And I guess it doesn't matter, his ghost still haunts me, so I guess I will just wait for what comes after.”
The house wrapped, in disrepair
Just like the ones living there
In the basement of his soul, there’s water damage, memories stolen, The Flood became his home

Waterboarded walls, a broken foundation, no light, no life, no hope, no home

I can barely remember seeing a family that fought their wars together
And I guess I can't defend her. She said “God help us carry on.”
So I picked up and I moved on as my fire, it dwindles down, and I'm burnt out

Does anyone hear me?
Does anyone care?
My mind keeps spiraling downward, and my heart's in disrepair

November 16, 1973
The years have not been kind, and he's running out of time
And he fights!
He fights, he fights his father's war, on his mind, for his family, but they both chose the wrong door