My father calls me still inside my head
And though I listen not to his sad song,
His words entice me like some book I’ve read.

It’s ten long years of silence since he’s dead,
And even though it may seem to be wrong
My father calls me still inside my head.

He calls me to the morning out of bed,
And trails me like a day that is too long,
His words entice me like some book I’ve read.

My reflection in the mirror’s his instead,
My hands shake as I try to fill the bong,
My father calls me still inside my head.

If I should try to answer what he’s said
He laughs and tells me I should sing along:
His words entice me like some book I’ve read.

So sometimes I will harmonize with dread,
And sometimes I’m reminded I’m not young,
My father calls me still inside my head,
His words entice me like some book I’ve read.