Stories

I like the stories you used to tell About your broken mother who went through hell She would smoke at the kitchen table while the maids cleared away The chopped up remnants of that day I like the stories you used to sing About your drunken father who fixed everything He would come home everyday in a done up suit and tie Another ring for your mother to apologise Before you go I want to know About your mothers vacant stare And your fathers loving glare So tell me once more All of your Stories Stories I like the stories you used to say About your older brothers who gave it all away They were given everything by your father But they spent it all and lost it leaving the daughter Before you go I want to know About your mothers vacant stare And your fathers loving glare So tell me once more All of your Stories Stories Don't you worry little child You don't have to cry Don't be afraid of the belt that's held Right in front of your eyes Don't cry Dry your eyes There's a story somewhere inside Don't cry Mmm I like the stories I find The stories you used to tell