---

The son of guiltiness,

the son of broken promises,

born from deception,

baptized at daylight inception;

torn from your mother's arms

to hush up an inconvenient scandal

and your father didn't care

about your fragile mood;

you were just the bastard son of his brood.

Grown up in the nature,

its laws forged your behavior.

A hole in your heart,

a hole in your affection,

a hole to fill with perfection.

And your father didn't care

about your fragile mood;

you were just the bastard son of his brood.

Looking for something you didn't know

to warm your lovelorn soul.

A hug, a sweet caress on your face;

a word, a lovely whisper for your rest;

a kiss, the sign of someone who cares.

And your father didn't care

about your fragile mood;

you were just the bastard son of his brood.

You passed the entire life

taming the deepest strife.