Broken Bell

I sit and do a drawing
A portrait of my dad
I should really visit him
Before he is dead
Cause we are getting old
Our cells just won’t divide like they’re told
And I’m not really good at this kind of thing
Should I take the advice of the graffiti on the wall telling me to «go suck it»
Or should I listen to the voices ringing in my head like a broken bell
Can I meet someone nice on the other side looking for more than just a good time
But I don’t think it’s fine to expect that the universe was born with such a
good temper
I sit and do a drawing
A portrait of my mom as a child
I wish we could just get along like we used to
Cause we are getting older
Our cells just won’t divide like they told us
And I’m not very good at this kind of thing
No, I’m not really good at this