Mother Father I'm doing OK. On the other side of the country far away. And though I know the things that you want to hear me say. Sometimes these things are hard. Mother Father I am your son. Right down to the long thin pointed face. And this muddled up and twisted tongue. And now I find that I'm doing. All those things you would have done. Sometimes these things are hard. Chorus:. So do I thank you? Do I curse you?. These tracks stretch out before me - the ones you left behind. What I want and what I feel - it's yours yours not mine. Mother Father all those battles that have been. And the long long silences that lay in between. Please don't try to tell me all those were in vain. Sometimes these things are hard. We line up at the wedding in rows of deep set eyes. In our finest formal dresses and proper suits and ties. Like a family of Munsters in a really bad disguise. Chorus:. So do I thank you? Do I curse you?. These tracks stretch out before me - the ones you left behind.