The shadows of fathers are nasty things

a girl is born in thrall; 

Train for the live-chess arena and lure diamond rings

how glamor and grandeurs are dull;

When she closes her eyes she dreams of the sun

She shall claim a second chance through her son.

 

The shades of mothers are tricky things

a boy grows chasing after it;

That some day she will spread her angelic wings

His heart will skip a beat;

Then he'll lie his head on her warm, soft breast

Forget the world and lose himself in her nest.

 

Failure to please again and again,

Making mistake upon mistake;

Too numb to be pleased or even feign 

Fever and longing keeping him awake.

 

And the wolves behind curtains are playing charades.

And the lamb remains ignorant of its crucialness.

Playing fast and loose with shadows and shades

We've grown limb and embraced our own impotence.

 

And when she's found hanging from a rope 

You can blame the shadows of fathers

And when he leans into oblivion for he's lost all hope 

You can blame the shades of mothers.