My mother she is dying nand my father he is old,nboth of them are trying so hard to hold.nTired, tired is their love, nbut push has come to shove,npush has come to shove.nnLaughter there was plenty, nmany years ago,nbut now their lives are empty nand the joy it doesn't show.nSorry, they both try to say, nbut pride gets in the way,npride gets in the way.nnWhy won't the rain come and wash awaynall the sin and the blood?nOr buried we will staynbelow the guilt, below the shame,ncovered up with malice and mud, malice and mud.nnThe children they are growing, nlessons being learned.nThe truth it is showing, nthe consequences earned.nHopeless, they all try to find, na little piece of mind,na little piece of mind.nnThe tree it is falling, nfalling to the ground.nThe family it is calling, nwithout any sound.nFeelings, they will start to fade, nalong with promises made,npromises made.nnWhy won't the rain come and wash awaynall the sin and the blood?nOr buried we will staynbelow the guilt, below the shame,ncovered up with malice and mud, malice and mud.nnLet our angry hearts go,nlet the wounded parts show,nlet our own worse fears call,nlet all of our tears fall,nLet them fall,nLet them fall.nnWhy won't the rain come and wash away?