Too Late

Sixty-five years must've been too much to bear
For an insecure black man livin' on the verge of despair;
Too much resentment and too much hate
From which there can be no easy escape
It's too late, there's nothing left to give;
Not for your woman, you got nothin' for your kids...
It's too late, there's nothing left to hide;
So you go your way, and I'll go mine...
My father and I don't get along;
He's always right, I'm always wrong...
We never talk… he'd rather hide,
Preening his pride and pruning mine...
It's too late, there's nothing left to give;
Not for your woman, you got nothin' for your kids...
It's too late, there's nothing left to hide;
So you go your way, and I'll go mine...
I tried to talk to him, to go beyond the insults and lies,
Depending on the love to keep the family alive...
He said, "I don't wanna talk on account of the pressure of my blood"
I said, "Can't we talk on account of love?"
"I'm reaching out to you..."
He said, "Don't reach out to me."
"But I love you! I love you! Dad…don't you love me?"
He stared straight ahead at the basketball game on his precious TV...
And he never even opened his mouth…
He never even opened his mouth to me…
And now it's too late, there's nothing left to give;
Not for your woman, you got nothin' for your kids...
It's too late, there's nothing left to hide;
So you go your way, and I'll go mine...
It's too late, there's nothing left to give;
Not for your woman, you got nothin' for your kids...
It's too late, there's nothing left to hide;
So you go your way, and I'll go mine...
Oh, it's too late;
Not for your woman, you got nothin' for your kids...
Oh, it's too late;
So you go your way, and I'll go mine...
You go your way, you go your way, you go your way…
…And I'll go mine.