What Gives My Son?

Far be it for me to say you're loose, son
For be it for me to say you're no one
I've heard your excuse
I've heard your excuse
I've heard your excuses
Every one

You don't know what's going
You don't know what's going
You don't know what's going on
My son

Far be it for me to say you're brain dead
It might help if you get your ass out of bed
It twists me inside to see your girlfriend's backside
She gets tongue-tied and run

You don't know what's going
You don't know what's going
You don't know what's going on
My son
My son
My son
You're my son
You're my son, I'm older than you
You can't be a man too
Your hair's too long
Get out of my home
Get out of my home

Papa, growing old
You're growing cold
You went too far
You crashed my car
You crashed my car
You crashed my car

I'm in a rage
Get off of that stage
Get off of that stage...
O.K
O.K.