Charlie was a war protester's son,
Likened life to magazines,
worked real hard at leisure
when he wasn't huffing gasoline

His time had come and gone.

He never understood the reason
that he never had a thing to say
he spent his life feeling sorry
and his face got stuck that way.

His time had come and gone

At one point he got lucky,
the stars lined up that night,
he was too fucked up to notice
and the train went right on by.

His time had come and gone

Charlie knocked up a stranger
swore that he would change his ways,
he groomed his boy the best he could,
to someday take his place.

His time had come and gone.

The boy rose from the wreckage
and never gave his dad his due
but charlie was as proud as he could be
to see him see it through.

His time had come and gone.