Day is dawning. Almost sounded like a warning. Wind was rushing through the trees almost falling. I never thought that I’d become. The proud father of my three sons. Years of fragment. Between the shame and the sentiment. For all the years that I might have been absent. I can’t do what can’t be undone. Oh no my three songs. I love you more than I can say. What I give to one the other cannot take away. I bless the day you came to be. With everything that is left to me. Here’s your pillow. Go to sleep and I will follow. May you never have anymore sorrows. That’s not something that you can count upon. Still I want it for my three sons. My my my three sons. Deep in the night I turn cold and sick. But I only curse arithmetic. I bless the day that you came to be. With everything that is left to me. Day is closing. Old men and infants are dosing. That’s the kind of life I’ve chosen. To see what I’ve become. The humble father of my three sons. The humbled father of my three sons