Dear Mother, we've all got bad days, and I know
you'll understand. Where we open up a foreign
door with a pair of foreign hands. Where we find
ourselves alone at the foot of a pair of foreign
stairs. Dear Mother, you know how our bad days can
catch us unawares. Dear Mother, we've all got
bad days, and I hope that you'll agree. With a
bottle filled up with Vicodin and a child who
looks just like me. And a cellar that's as dark
as winter's cold (with a hole in the stone of
the cold wall). A child like me who's hiding, a
child who can't hear your call. There's a
Find more similar lyrics on http://mp3lyrics.com/gORstring that runs through our bad days, and if you
pull that string real tight, the days all crumple
together and all that you see is night. And the
doorknob becomes your enemy, and the window you
see through a haze. Dear Mother, I wish you could
stand inside and see all my bad days. My bad days
all got together and they stood in a row for me,
and I plunged deep into the row, and I couldn't
hear and I couldn't see. And I came out after
thousands rose and thousands passed away. Now I
stand all alone at the foot of the stairs and I
wait for more bad