Church bells echo down the river run
Father rises with the Sunday sun
He won’t miss a day
He sings hymns loudly on the chapel floor
Points a cold finger at the sinner’s door
And drives them all away
But why don’t you know?
Oh why can’t you see?
Between the things you do and think
The truth turns into lies
When you find yourself on the brink
You should never shut your eyes
Please return to me…
Mother’s stirring in the dead of night
Grabs her handbag and slips out of sight
Oh, where could she be?
She sells our bread from the evening meal
And spends every dime on a gambling wheel
When I’m still hungry
And so it must be…
But why don’t you know?
Oh why can’t you see?
Between the things you do and think
The truth turns into lies
When you find yourself on the brink
You should never shut your eyes
Please return to me…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem