Father Mac

Father
Don't tell me what to do
Father
What kind of priest are you?
Father
What are those marks on your back?
What's that blood on your knees?
Why are your dreams that black?

Father
You don't protect your lamb
Father
I don't trust your hand
Father
The corn is on your floor
Waiting for your sins
To grow up even more

Father
Do you still think of her?
Your sweat, still runs down on your face?
Do you still remember her legs, that made you burn?
The same ones that you opened up
To give life to your son