do you remember naptimes how we'd lay down on that big old bed njust above the covers in the house we used to live in nand you'd been at work all day and so you were tired nso you never really noticed when i'd slip down to the floor nwith tiny feet unsure nbut steadied by the carpet fibers between my toes ni'd stumble to the door, peak my head and go nyou woke up twelve years later and i was vandalizing signs nfor luxury condominiums and politicians without spines nthe next thing that you know i am calling you from jail nyou know i would have loved you anyway if you hadn't post my bail nbut i'm not sure if you realize all the tears that fell from my eyes nwhen you told me it was worthless those three days i spent in hell nand thought i knew that you were wrong nand though i proved it in a song nyou made me feel weak when i needed to feel strong nyou made me wonder if it was really just a game all along? nand i know it would make you happy if i'd just focus on my degree nput down my guitar and give up anarchy ncome home every summer play the way other kids play nbe happy getting' drunk each night and waitin' tables every day nbut hey dad, i'm an anarchist nit's not a phase and it's not a disease nand though my hands are worn for my age nwould you still hold one of them please? ni just want you to know that i love you nand i want you to love me too nright now i'm not sure where home is nbut i'm sure there's room there for you ni want the same thing as every other homesick patched-up kid in this crowd ni want my dad to look at me; i want him to be proud.