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Anger is what I have for you my dad
Your anger you put on me I had
Anger is what you tricked me with
It’s all my fault you said, what a myth
Anger haunts my spirit of ghost past
Shadows of black they taunt so vast
Day light, moon night, a howling goon
No more shall you lurk your anger heirloom
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I’m all grown up now, John
Your title of dad is now gone
Your wish be granted, no daughter you have
Be happy your riches
Your monies your bitches
Wealthy you are and wealthy you’re not
Wealth defined by beholder of lot
I’ll see you in heaven
Maybe... maybe not...you heathen
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John Dear John, my dad of past
Goons of new moons have no more mast
On winds that once howled
Have now died without prowl
Memories of words from your chilly winds
No longer scream for I’ve made amends
Amends with you? Oh most surely not
Amends with the past, I’m now on top
If I’m now on top, then where are you?
You're not on your pedestal. Oh boo-hoo-hoo
John, oh Dear John, where shall you be?
You’re in that there throne where I shirley pee!