Your father looked down dresses while sitting in church
But he was beat with a belt for not abiding God's words
And while kneeling by your broken bed you cast a wasted curse
That only silenced all the town's pretty song birds
Your cousin touched your lips with fingers soaked in wax
While mom and dad were fighting the kitchen table fell to flames
You cleaned it with an ax
And your cousin left in shame
Mother took you to the carnival to help you to forget
She dragged you by the wrist and let a clown drink your thoughts
On your hands you did sit
And they used your dreams as their props
You yelled at the ***** and ran the dusty road home
You found your father dead but rich
You made his grave of rusted chrome