Christopher Esse - Tragic Son

I know him well, this man you applaud
Whose naiveté still sticks in my craw
We played in a band called Doe Re: Mack
My name is Terry but I go by Mack

When I quit the band to focus on business
John hit the skids, apathetic and listless
He claimed I sold out my real passion
But who is he to question my passion

He's a tragic son, living off my crumbs
He'd rather chase a dream than face America
He's a tragic son, living off my crumbs
He'd rather chase a dream than face America

Where is he now, this mad-child you worship
And is he aware your dreams persist
I try to reach out but he won't listen
He still thinks machines must re-invent the system

Did he really expect the powers that be
To help solve problems they don't even see
Get over it, kids, and get back in the game
Just look in the mirror for someone to blame

He's a tragic son, living off my crumbs
He'd rather chase a dream than face America
He's a tragic son, living off my crumbs
He'd rather chase a dream than face America
Face America

Written by:
Christopher Esse

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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