Silverchair

After all these years

breathe in the night
that crushed a tired sunrise
born again the day
brings you naivety

a laptop souvenir is worth its weight
in silver a golden son
you'll be home again
and I'll be home again

mend in my sleep
i'm boxing under water
waddle on the wake
waking on a summer day

after all these years
forget about all the troubled times
munificent, artless and ascetic
playing like a scared
enthusiastic pawn

and every father's pain
casts a shadow over a broken son
you'll be whole again
and I'll be whole again

all those years
i was hurting to feel
something more than life