Son you're a mystery All your precious words don't mean so much to me You were on the side of us All your thoughts aligned with my deep poetry And you would accompany Every weekend walk up and wish All the days of chastity All the nights of teenage I prayed I tried not to criticize You must go the way you're at and bring on flight Maybe you're a victim to Maybe this is helping cause we all love you too much What is it you armed me for? You convinced me I was hopeless All your wedding metaphors All your well worn sexless posture Hellier than Jesus Christ They came a long way just to touch your gun But you never turn away him or her A good and gay or black or brown So convincing for a while Mighty was your stack of pages Everywhere you'd ever spoke Was condemned by the woman ages I don't mind (Mind, mind, mind) It's hard to be kind (Kind, kind, kind) Everybody finds a way Printer was my sympathy I was so obsessed with doing things my own way Then one day you realize I don't stand for anything, I'm failing away I remember your bad dream You patrolled with that most confident When I finally gave myself You respond with melting