Mum found my cigarettes in my school bag
She looked at me with her motherly eyes she said son I'm not mad just sad
Well I went to my bedroom that night without any tea
Sat alone in my own despair watched kid's shows on static tv
Dad found my weed stash in a pair of shoes
He looked at me, pretending to sob, he said
Son you're gone have to choose
So later that night, hell cliché, I wondered outside
Like my father before me I pretended to cry
Forth come my loving man
Well I worked hard, you understand
Forth come my loving man
Later that week on a Sunday oh Gran came home from church
Stumbled in my bedroom door, looked at me said
Boy you got to find your worth
So I went out searching like my Gran did told
But I find myself twenty years later all alone, prison cell
Running, running, home
Running home
I'm running, I'm running home
Running home
Forth come my loving man
Well I worked hard, you understand
Forth come my loving man
Forth come my loving man
Well I worked hard, you understand
Forth come my loving man