Portrait of My Father
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There's a portrait of my father
Hanging on my bedroom wall
When he was a whole lot younger
We didn't get along at all
If he told me to go left
You can bet that I'd go right
I knew what I was doing
I didn't need his damned advice
The years are like a river
Smoothing down the stones
We keep changing courses
'Til we find our own
Well, I burned right through my twenties
Like a fire out of control
And I know that it relieved him
The day that I brought Lisa home
And then on the night she left me
I told him, "Dad, it's too much work"
And I hated him for saying
"Boy, you got a lot to learn"
Time is like a knife
It whittles you and me
Shaving off the edges
'Til we're who we're supposed to be
And you never see it coming
It just sneaks up from behind
'Til who you were before
Is almost out of sight
Well, I got up this morning
Splashed my face with water
Looked up in the mirror
And smiled at a portrait of my father