Here's a fragment
Between the shame and the sentiment
For all the years that I might have been absent
I can't do what can't be undone
Oh no, my three sons

I love you more than I can say
What I give to one
The other cannot take away
I bless the day you came to be
With everything that is left to me

Here's your pillow
Go to sleep and I will follow
May you never have any more sorrows
That's not something you can count upon
Still I want it for my three sons
My my
My three sons

Deep in the night I turn cold and sick
But I only curse arithmetic
I bless the day that you came to be
With everything that is left to me

Day is closing
Old men and infants are dozing
That's the kind of life I've chosen
Just see what I've become
The humble father of my three sons
The humbled father of my three sons

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