Children in their bed at night
Still awake but eyes closed right
Daddy\'s coming up the stairs
To check you\'ve spoken wasted prayers
As the tears come to your eye
Pray again that you might die
Daddy slips between the covers
Father and son as one are lovers
Years crowd in and father dies
By the grave his son still cries
Secrets held too close to tell
Keep you in your personal hell
Many years have passed for sure
For a father\'s little whore
Now with children of his own
Mother, bingo, all alone
Son\'s in bed and quietly sleeping
Up the stairs comes father creeping.....