My fingernails nearly snapped into the bench, Listening to that vicar lie in every sentence, Blessed lucky and faith, Words spoken in the same breath as your name, As tears rollled down my cheeks, It was bad enough to barley have a seat, To my fathers final week, My sisters breathless cries, Peircing eyes, ''family'' looking to gain from your demise, Weak speeches and half hearted screeches, Bastards and bitches, Hunting non existant riches, You were addicted, So every penny earnt just drifted, To the bottom of the bottle you lifted, To your lips, And i dont blame you, These are the facts....., You won in the end dad.....