A Good Day
Shane Koyczan Lyrics

You used to say, on a good day I only break his heart once.
You had hoped that you would only break his heart once on good days.

That was before you learned how to lie.
But then you had to start lying when you realized that telling the truth can have a high cost.

Back when you used to try to tell the truth.
You used to try to tell the truth before you learned that it can come with great consequences.

Because you and him never had the kind of relationship that allowed for secrets.
You and him never had a relationship where you could keep secrets from each other.

And now somehow alive it's better.
But somehow, being alive without him is better than having to watch him suffer anymore.

It is like a letter slipped through the slot of a locker.
It feels like you're passing on messages through an anonymous letter.

Because the doctor told you if there was anything more they could do, they would do it.
Because the doctor had no answers when you asked if there was anything more they could do to save him.

He's not coming back.
You have come to terms with the fact that he is not coming back.

And in the moment you knew it, you learned how to lie.
When you found out that he was not coming back, you had to learn how to lie to yourself to cope.

Because there are times when the cost of truth is so high, we endure our own hearts to hearts break.
Sometimes, telling the truth can hurt too much that we choose to endure a different kind of heartbreak instead.

We make love into a currency that can't be cashed in, because there has never been a bank that will give out a loan based on the collateral of hope.
Love cannot be traded in for something else. Even hope has no value in the financial world.

They'll lend anyone just enough rope to hang their family's future on a dream, then scheme somewhere to foreclose.
Banks do not care about families and will lend them just enough to get in debt and then end up foreclosing on their dreams.

And everybody knows they've got billions of dollars, but no dads in their vault.
Banks have a lot of money, but they don't have dads or happiness hidden in their vaults.

So you learnt how to lie.
And so, you had no choice but to lie to yourself and everyone else.

Because it's not his fault that he can't remember, that your mom, his wife, had a life that ended two years ago.
It's not his fault that he can't remember, but it's difficult for you to deal with his memory loss, especially since your mother passed away two years ago.

So you … to passport into his heart, trespassing into his past and into the name into the last one to live there.
So you try to remember for him, to enter his memories and be the one who remembers the last name that lived in his heart.

Because healthcare can't cover the misplaced memories of families, whose secrets spill out jewels through the oversized holes in pants pockets that someone in the family has to wear.
Healthcare cannot provide a solution for families whose memories have been misplaced, and secrets can come out through the smallest of things.

And you tell me that every stitch is as valuable as every tear.
You believe that every stitch and every tear has the same value and meaning.

But pull a single string and the whole thing will unravel.
But one small mistake can ruin everything, just like a string that is pulled too hard on a piece of stitching.

So you travel across borders under an assumed identity, where the broken branch of a family is built into a confessional.
You have to travel to different places under a false identity to deal with the broken branch of your family, finding solace in confessionals.

And you listen to an apology meant for your mother.
You hear someone apologizing for something that happened to your mother in the past.

Something about another woman on a night before a flight back home.
The apology is regarding another woman that your father was with the night before he left for home.

And you forgive him.
You choose to forgive him for his mistake.

Because that's what a mom would do.
You forgive him because you know that's what your mother would've done.

You know, because he says thank you, which means mom already did.
You forgive him because he says thank you, and you feel that it's your mother who is forgiving him through you.

Hit the secret away, like one of those strayed cats you used to keep hidden in your room, hoping no one would ever know.
You hide the secret away just like you used to hide cats in your room, hoping no one would find out.

And you tell me, I didn't mean to grow up?
You reflect on how growing up was not something that you had planned or wanted to do.

It was an accident.
Growing up felt like it was something that happened to you without meaning to.

And I know you never meant to be 42 years old, having to go through this.
You never thought that you would be in your forties dealing with this kind of loss and pain.

Having to miss him at the same time you're with him.
You miss him and feel his absence even when you're with him.

Having him gone at the same time he's there.
He's gone even though he's still physically there, and that's a difficult thing to deal with.

Having to stare at the first word you ever said and now not being able to say it.
It's difficult for you to think about the word 'daddy' now because you can't bring yourself to say it anymore.

And you can't remember despite your best efforts how when the word ‘daddy' became ‘dad'.
You can't remember the moment when the word 'daddy' turned into 'dad', no matter how hard you try.

How two extra letters had and have all the safety of wavelessness.
Those two extra letters in 'dad' give you a sense of safety and stability, like a calm sea with no waves.

We both know this, because you used to be my babysitter.
You and the listener have a shared understanding of the importance of that word because you used to babysit them.

And when the nightmares would shake me awake, you'd make and take the time to tell me, daddy's going to be home soon.
You used to comfort the listener when they had nightmares by reassuring them that their father would be home soon.

Because to us that word meant security or bravery or "Dear Mr.
The word 'daddy' represented safety and courage to both you and the listener, just like how a letter starts with 'Dear Mr.'

Boogie man, you better not be under my bed or in my closet, because my daddy is going to deposit his foot so far up your ass, the interest alone will be enough that he can retire early.
You used to joke around with the listener about the 'boogie man' and how their father would take care of him with his powerful kick.

We grew up in confessionals and were taught that a lie under any circumstance is wrong.
You both grew up in a religious environment where lying was seen as a sin under any circumstance.

But how come the sacrifice of faith belonged to anything less than the virtue it takes to break one's own heart to ease another's descent into madness.
You wonder why it's easier to give up on faith than it is to make the tough choice to break your own heart for the sake of someone else's mental health.

How can anyone dismiss love as if it wasn't the only reason to risk everything knowing for well you can't bring them back.
You question anyone who can dismiss the power of love, which is the only reason to take risks even though you know you can't bring someone back from the dead.

But there are no footprints or trails to track to find them.
There's no clear path to follow to find lost loved ones.

All you can be there, and you are.
All you can do is be present for the people you care about, and that's what you're doing.

Despite your own husband, you wear your mother's wedding ring.
Despite being married yourself, you still wear your mother's wedding ring as a way to remember her.

Because it was something he asked about when he saw you without it.
Your husband noticed when you weren't wearing the ring and asked you about it.

That was a bad day.
That was a difficult day for you, when your husband asked about your mother's wedding ring.

When you saw the way he couldn't understand how your hand held someone else's promise of forever.
You were hurt when your husband couldn't understand the significance of your mother's wedding ring and how it represented a promise of forever.

And that it is never you he will remember, it's her.
You feel like your husband will never remember you the same way he remembers your mother.

And the only time you're ever sure if he still loves you, is when he asks: "How is our baby?"
The only time you feel confident that your husband loves you is when he asks about your child.

And it may very well be that you break your own hearts too many times to count even on a good day.
You acknowledge that dealing with loss and heartbreak is a constant struggle, even on good days.

Because you say: "She's good, sweety.
And despite everything, you still have to put on a brave face for your child, telling them that everything is okay by saying 'She's good, sweety.'

She's happy."
And you reassure your child that they're happy, even when times are tough.