One I was younger than
|
The youngest of fragile minds
|
I ate the day with bad manners
|
Then spit out the rind
|
|
And mother told me
|
As I looked to the sky
|
Yes my mother told me "My dear son,
|
You're not the one"
|
|
I flew from home when I was just twenty-one
|
Young enough to be the feather of someone
|
I've got a conch pissed with conch republic rum
|
My father by my side, teary-eyed, he said:
|
"Son, by god what I could have done,
|
And you're just like me,
|
You can really put 'em down
|
oh if I was in your place I'd stay, have fun
|
But I? not the one"
|
|
Now I'm sitting here
|
Haggling over sums
|
Of money made by someone else
|
To me it don't belong
|
I toss a smile to the mighty boss
|
He's my God
|
But I'm a bit backwards
|
And I know he's just a fucking dog.
|
|
-----------------
|
A Promise To Distinction
|
| Swingin' Utters |