(One, two, three, four) My father said "Son, now my life's work is done There's a future for you, there's a job to be done Stop fighting the system '
Traduzione: L'allarme. Father To Son.
son Should have stayed a great unknown Like his father carving wood-- He?d have made good Table chairs and oaken chests would have suited Jesus best He?d caused nobody harm--no-one alarm
of torture Since he was too small Cries of help no one answered his call Bruises tattoo his face. His teachers assuming No cause for alarm. Father
snow began to fall Balder's face was clouded The dreams of warning had called His mother sought oaths From all this below the sky To not to hurt her son
other talk, him in New York They robbed the Venezuelan niggas, stabbed his son with a fork That was Jesus' rooster's little niece, little nooses Father
to get some money I can hand to her But I ain't with bein a motherfuckin janitor Plus I got my little nigga And I'm tryin my best to be the right kind of father
every word you say today Gets twisted 'round some other way. And they'll hurt you if they think you've lied. Nazareth, your famous son should have stayed a great unknown Like his father
d rather risk my fate Then lose my faith The lovin', the hatin' The consenceapating The chaos that comes Raise The Alarm We mean it We'll die Consence Denied The Chaos that comes Raise The Alarm
family all the things we are looking back it's so bizarre Like a dream within a dream we're all somewhere in between Like a drummer plays his drum like a father like a son
His father died and left him a little farm in New England. All the long black funeral cars left the scene And the boy was just standing there alone Looking
other way And they'll hurt you if they think you've lied Nazareth's most famous son Should have stayed a great unknown Like his father carving wood He
Mikey knocked down 12 years old Bloody knees and bloody nose Wipes the mud out of his eye Says "Dad, is it alright for me to cry?" 'Son don't you wanna
trial Released on this wild earth, my generation hit worst Will my development arrested by the government Younga niggas strugglin', livin' life got me wonderin' New shit I'm discoverin', yo son
His father died and left him a little farm in New England All the long black funeral cars left the scene And the boy was just standin' there alone Lookin
Hit me with some other talk, him in New York They robbed the Venezuelan niggas, stabbed his son with a fork That was Jesus' rooster's little niece, little nooses Father
