I’m a lonely man in the attic here,

Reminiscing on songs you sang my dear.

Your beautiful voice cradled our children to sleep,

But all I do is lay here and weep.

I remember your touch cured my lame,

Feeling happy every time you called my name.

My dear, I wish you could change my state,

As soon as I was there for you it was too late.

Do you watch the children cry as I berate them?

They need their mother’s touch, not father’s of men.

I sat Annabelle on my knee as she gladly sobbed,

I’m a bad father, their childhood I robbed.

Losing my job at the bank meant losing money,

Groceries scarce, no scent of your favourite honey.

Sometimes I sing to distract them of the London Pall,

But they tell me I sound like a funeral.

Now they laugh at my jokes and clap for my art,

I’m hoping it’s our positive start.

Bedtime stories consist of our first date,

I hope they don’t have the same miserable fate.

To you my dear, I have a confession to make,

But it’s not a happy one like our lake.

This family is breaking like a broken bridge,

Our children will end up in an orphanage.

My health is unbalanced every night,

I don’t have the strength to put up a fight.

I will be dead by sunrise this morning,

Children will find my body, crippled with mourning.

We haven’t got long my gentle dear,

I’m bottled up with tears and empty fear.

Raise a glass to freedom,

No freedom for children, if I can’t lead ‘em.

The sun is rising…I feel so warm,

A…beautiful time to die…in summer dawn.

I love you dearest wife…for our children I’ll pray,

My time is fading, I love you…in Heaven I’ll…