/For Father's love, The Exorcism expert that rarely exercised haha./

Don't you know

that my father's pride

are vapors of a waterfall?

Loving like a still-vexed lake,

life nourishing yet

muffling the screams

of a drowning child within?

That if he were poured in any container- he'll fit in?

always half-full,

never half-empty.

Transparent to the core

Yet always at boiling point

Never in the simmer?

Simmer, simmer, see mercy, mercy...

Simmer, simmer, see mercy, mercy.

Don't you know that

my father was India's child?

America's boy?

And Arabia's Oasis?

Diplomat's children,

government exiles

of the 70's?

In perfect liquidity of blood

and water? Dried with sweat

but never tears?

Brain-washed

by religious extremeties?

Vapor raining down

his children's

pride parades?!

Simmer, simmer, see mercy, mercy...

Simmer, simmer, see mercy, mercy.

What a way to rust the

love of your steel-hearted children.

To submerge them

in the bottomless ocean

of catholic craze-

My water-of-a father,

Never a drop on my dreams.