My youngest son played this song for me in the car when he was a young teen almost 10 yrs ago. It's about a sucky dad who died and how the death hurt him as he hurt him in life. My son cried and held my hand. There is a line about leaving the kids with a poor single mother and being a donor of seeds. I guess thats how my son felt about his dad. (Little did he know his father would hang himself when my youngest was 18 and in college and the song literally came true!) As a teen he had no displaced anger toward me that his father was more interested in his girlfriend and his band than raising children. He never used it as an excuse to be  unsuccessful in life. If anything maybe it pushed him to do better. Both of my kids are successful. Their dad started banging his singer when the kids were maybe 6&4 and hung himself when they were 20&18. Not a great fsmily life.

DH started whining about how he gives the kids everything and allows bad behavior because of "everything they have been through"boo hoo. I told him when their mother hangs herself we can talk about what they have been through. They are such spoiled entitled brats because their parents got a divorce.  The displaced anger they place on my DH and me because their mom sucks is ridiculous. They treat BM like she is golden and walk all over  DH. I know it's common but my babies didnt do that. It was us against the world. We struggled at times, who doesn't?  I have the song and the lyrics posted. The skids have been through nothing when I think about it. Their parents live separately and both have new spouses. Yes it sucks but the little shits will milk it for all they can. 

Im so proud of my bios for overcoming what they have

https://youtu.be/wEB29IXUbxQ

Styrofoam Plates by Deathcab for Cutie

There's a saltwater film on the jar of your ashes:
I threw them to sea but a
Gust blew them backwards and the sting in my eyes
That you then inflicted was par for the course just as when you were living.

It's no stretch to say you were not quite a father but a donor of seeds to a
Poor single mother that would raise us alone,
We'd never see the money that
Went down your throat
Through the hole in your belly.

Thirteen years old in the suburbs of Denver
Standing in line for Thanksgiving dinner at the catholic church. the servers
Wore crosses
To shield from the sufferance plauging the others.
Styrofoam plates, cafeteria
Tables charity reeks of cheap wine and pity
And I'm thinking of you. I do every year
When we count all our blessings
And wonder what we're doing here.

You're a disgrace to the concept of family
The priest won't divulge that fact in his homily and I'll stand up and scream
If the mourning remain quiet,
You can deck out a lie in a suit but I won't buy it.

I won't join in the procession that's speaking their peace.
Using five dollar words while praising his integrity.
And just cause he's gone it doesn't change the fact:
He was a bastard in life thus a bastard in death