Started mailroom, moved up through Clerical, now Obituaries
I am the teacher's son
I am the teacher's son
I am the teacher's son
I'm the teacher's son
Never seen a sky so big, like it's been saving up for years
Clouds [bad word] press-ganged in, until the dateline disappears
I have loved and lost like the river's lost and found but I've never fought the tide and I've never [bad word] around
I'm the teacher's son
My favourite sound is churchbells and my greatest love's the sea though I never learnt to swim - never [bad word] it with me
I wrote a novel in my twenties though it never left my head -aA thousand words a sitting 'til all the characters were dead
I'm the teacher's son
My father was a poet though he never got the chance 'cos his words looked like another's if you took them at a glance
But he met a girl so pretty that he asked her to a dance
And there his words they died liked flowers
There his words, they lost all power
I've been told I have his ways
I've been told I have his grace but he left me on my