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Writer's pictureFatima Morken

I WANNA TALK TO MY FATHER

Updated: Jun 16, 2020


Photo Credit: Mariel McHugh


During my early years of childhood, I had the best father a girl could ask for.


We danced together, played at the park and went out on the weekends.


I got a brand-new doll or toy of my choice every friday evening after my dad came home from work.


It was throughout the course of my adolescence my father began to come home late at night and would disappear for hours at a time.


Since then, it’s been a rollercoaster ride of emotions in regards to my dad’s addictions.


Alcoholism and gambling have deteriorated him and robbed him of the person he truly and fully is.


On board a plane to Paris, France a few years ago, I finally had the time to think about my relationship with my father in ways I hadn’t previously so done.


At that moment, I healed the most and wrote this song...


“I WANNA TALK TO MY FATHER”

Songwriter: © Fatima Morken, 2015 BMI


VERSE 1:

I may have been able to dance

I may have been able to glance

I may have been able to live

I may have been able to give

I may have been able to walk

I may have been able to talk

I may have been able to see

I may have been able to dream


PRE-CHORUS 1:

But there’s one thing missing in my life

There’s one thing missing in my soul


CHORUS:

I wanna talk to my father

I wanna get to know

The things that kept him from breaking

The things that made him break

I wanna talk to my father

I wanna get to know

The things that made him laugh

The things that made him cry

The things that made him fly


VERSE 2:

I may have been able to reach

I may have been able to teach

I may have been able to sing, yea

I may have been able to swing

I may have been able to go

I may have been able to glow

I may have been able to stay

I may have been able to play


PRE-CHORUS 2:

But there’s one thing I insist I need to know

There’s this thing eating at my soul


REPEAT CHORUS


LAST CHORUS:

I wanna talk to my father

I wanna hear it all

Why is there such an entrapment?

Why does one carry shame?

Why is there so much frustration?

Don’t we know there’s a sky?

There isn’t anything

In this circle of pain

Of which we cannot gain

There isn’t anything

In this circle of pain

Of which we cannot gain

There isn’t anything

In this circle of pain

Of which we cannot gain


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