(Lyrics and the music video of “The Living Years by Mike & Mechanics”.)
Every generation, Blames the one before
And all of their frustrations, Come beating on your door
I know that I'm a prisoner, To all my Father held
so dear
I know that I'm a hostage, To all his hopes and
fears
I just wish I could have told him in the living
years.
Oh, crumpled bits of paper, Filled with imperfect
thought
Stilted conversations, I'm afraid that's all we've
got
You say you just don't see it, He says it's perfect
sense
You just can't get agreement, In this present tense
We all talk a different language, Talking in defence.