Hey Dad, I'm An Anarchist

do you remember naptimes how we'd lay down on that big old bed

just above the covers in the house we used to live in

and you'd been at work all day and so you were tired

so you never really noticed when i'd slip down to the floor

with tiny feet unsure

but steadied by the carpet fibers between my toes

i'd stumble to the door, peak my head and go

you woke up twelve years later and i was vandalizing signs

for luxury condominiums and politicians without spines

the next thing that you know i am calling you from jail

you know i would have loved you anyway if you hadn't post my bail

but i'm not sure if you realize all the tears that fell from my eyes

when you told me it was worthless those three days i spent in hell

and thought i knew that you were wrong

and though i proved it in a song

you made me feel weak when i needed to feel strong

you made me wonder if it was really just a game all along?

and i know it would make you happy if i'd just focus on my degree

put down my guitar and give up anarchy

come home every summer play the way other kids play

be happy getting' drunk each night and waitin' tables every day

but hey dad, i'm an anarchist

it's not a phase and it's not a disease

and though my hands are worn for my age

would you still hold one of them please?

i just want you to know that i love you

and i want you to love me too

right now i'm not sure where home is

but i'm sure there's room there for you

i want the same thing as every other homesick patched-up kid in this crowd

i want my dad to look at me; i want him to be proud.