James Stinson

Shame

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.....