There was a clang in them when they first looked on me and said the word disgrace.
If I could have spoke I would have give what for but, I ain't the giving type.
Doctors came in herds touch-feathered my spine's curve, said the word absurd.
They stood on my blindside, brutal with their words told them I should be thinned.
What they gonna do if I don't fall?
When they brought me home they laid me in my trunk and had a grieving contest.
The neighbors came to see, the door was closed too hard before they even could knock.
I kept the town awake behind my fits and quakes I heard the word mistake.
They said runaway but gravity is cruel - we know I'm some kind of useless.
What they gonna do if I don't fall?
When I came of age I once again tried to speak but they all just guffawed.
And when I came of age I once again tried to run, they kept up their guffaws.
Vengeance ain't yours or mine when one ain't got a spine so stop wasting my time.
So in remembrance of me put death in it's place make good use of your temper.
a smashing indictment of character