I remember When your dad was falling down I should have told you To be smart To never follow him to the ground But then he died On that cold heart sunday morning The bells were shining But they never made a sound You wished you told him That all those things that fell through his hands then That you could have given them back To him I remember When you were bleeding out the lines I should have told you That your dad still was cold as ice But then you died and a warm bright sunday morning The bells were shining and they played for everyone I wish I told you that all those things that fell through your hands then That I could have given them back to Back to you. Back to you. Oh back to. That I could have given them back to you.