I never knew my mother
I can't say it was so bad
She was still a girl of seventeen the night she met my dad
He was just six months out of chino
Trying his hardest to stay clean
And they'd sing and they'd sing and they'd sing
Like doves sleeping with broken wings
In a bed fit for a king
It didn't mean a thing

It was shot gun forest wedding
And they forgot to bring the gun
As they were busy counting promises
To the children not yet born
No one could afford the ride
Everyone hitched up with the 101

And they'd sing and they'd sing and they'd sing
Like doves dancing with broken wings
With a view fit for a king
It didn't mean a thing

It was a loneliness
They would confess
Like the world had gone bad I guess
So they hold hands and look into the eyes of god
They'd say tell me why'd ya hide from us
Why'd ya fill the world with wickedness
Why'd ya spare us from the grace but not the rot

Now my dad says [bad word] the details
Just keep your head down hard
Ya got to find yourself alone before you'll find the eyes of God
You make broke and scared and out of jail
Out the flesh of your own heartstrings
But you were born to be a peasant not a king
So just stop acting like [bad word] from something
Ya gonna leave the way you came without a thing
With your heart tattooed and your mind tied to a string

You just sing and you sing and you sing
It doesn't mean a thing