Letra de Daddy's On The Drink

The face of work is a drunk man in the same chair, chewing on the same bone for five thousand nights. The face of work is a, coffe cup in hand, frustrated "You don't get it. They all don't get it. You all don't understand, man." Daddy's on the drink again
Daddy's on the drink again
Daddy's doin' another rant on shame and blame and guilt again
Had a sip at six and still hasn't swallowed it
Daddy's on the couch again
Slouches in that slouch again
His fat, drunk bum pushes the cushions out, my friend
"You know, my dad drinks rye."
Yeah, whose dad doesn't?
"There's nothing on TV. There's nothing on TV."
Then what are you watching, dad?
He falls asleep, wakes up, dark, dry mouth. Somehow, he's in bed
Is there a fairy? Is there a "drunk dad fairy" that tiptoes in, takes the TV-changer out of his hand, puts a blanket around his shoulders, lifts his head off his chest so his neck won't be sore tomorrow when the liquor leaves him for a time?
Is there a drunk dad fairy that pays for that Chinese food?
Daddy's on the couch again
Drink on knee, he stares out again
"My dad, your grandad, was a drunk. I guess it skipped a generation with me."
Really, dad?
"You know my problem? I'm a workaholic."
Really, dad?
"You don't know what I go through at work."
And what was he like at work? The same teetering, room-temperature rye and seven splashing on the merchandise, other hand pulling up pants when he rants?
"Ah, you don't what I go through at home, do you? Let's order some Chink. Where's that menu? I think we've got the stuff we usually order circled. I'm starved!"
Daddy's on the drink again
Harasses mom, who's at the sink again
"What happened to the girl I married?"
Well, dad, she watched you all these years
Mommies, don't let your babies grow up to be daddies
These daddies, bad daddies, dead daddies or, mommies, make your babies grow up and they won't be these daddies
Dead drunk, rant and roll, too upset to eat three hours later. "Can we just eat some Chinese food?" Daddy's on the drink again. Daddies
"That's music. Not like that crap you listen to. Like Krupa. ?, Winnipeg Beach. I was a god damned king. Then you came along, didn't 'cha? I could use a pineapple chicken ?."