When I was born,
I didn't know.
When I was warned,
I didn't know.
Four years ago,
I didn't know.
I had fun,
I didn't know.
Smiling, laughing, loving,
I didn't know.
In my most secretive moments,
I didn't know.
Kissing someone else instead of him,
I didn't know.
Running up a phone bill not on him,
I didn't know.
Keeping a year-long secret from him,
I didn't know.
I got a sign, it was too late--
I didn't know.
Can't turn back the clocks,
I didn't know.
When het let go,
I didn't know.
The night before,
The minute of,
The morning after,
I didn't know.
Not a chance to say goodbye,
I didn't know.
God let daddy die.