Lyrics: Playing With Matches. Disappointment.

Where have you been?Where you're the reasons alcoholics call it fair-weather for a binge?
My colleague's kids all have doctorates and mine is making permanent imprints on the couch, hanging out Your dreams need elbow grease, and not to be used as excuse to elude responsibility.
That's right you're not the only one who can rhyme. But read between the lines.
I've always been a disappointment. You've always been a disappointment son, but it feels like it's on purpose this time.
Every day, it's hey, how's your kid? There's a reason I'm avoiding conversations that begin like this. Here's a suit I know it fits. In the breast pocket is what's left of your inheritance, one way plane ticket and a business card where they know me. Replace R-O-C with 4-0-1 son. That's what you need.
That's right you're not that only one who can write do you get the metaphor that I'm going for?
I've always been a disappointment. You've always been a disappointment son, but it feels like it's on purpose this time.
I'm the prodigal son who stayed home instead. Wasted his inheritance in sin while his welcome has worn to thin.
I've always been a disappointment.
You've always been a disappointment.
I've always been a disappointment.
You've always been a disappointment.
Well, you're right! Then this time you're alone. If you're doing this, you're doing this solo.
I've always been a disappointment. You've always been a disappointment son, but it feels like it's on purpose this time

(Thanks to Tara for these lyrics)