My dad always wore a fedora
cocked rakishly over one eye.
He said, “Honey, you know I adore ya,”
every time he said “good-bye”.
He touched the brim to the ladies
And filled them all with delight
Whether they were old church biddies
or harlots that danced in the night.
That old fashioned gesture disarmed them
And his grin made them giggle for more.
Ever so smoothly he charmed them
From virgin to mother to whore.
They said I was my daddy’s princess
and for all I know they were right.
But I didn’t feel any less helpless
when he left me alone in the night.
He’d say he was going downtown
and I knew not to ask any more.
A gambler of quite some renown,
He often had winnings galore.
But the smell of the bourbon betrayed him
when he came home and fell on the floor.
I was always afraid to aid him,
for the violence inside him was sure.
The masonic ring on his finger
would flash before strinking my cheek.
I hated the smell of the liquer
That made the living room reek.
Then he’d cry for the loss of my mother
till his sobbing turned into a snore
and I’d creep back to bed and smother
my tears in my pillow once more.
When suddenly life overcame him
an accident took him away.
All the things I wanted to tell him
I’d never be able to say.
My dad always wore a fedora
cocked rakishly over one eye.
He said, “Honey, you know I adore ya.”
But this tme it’s really “Goodby”,