Anecdotal

I was first called a hippie
At the ripened age of forty-two
Thought about it for a minute
Then shrugged, "I guess that's true"

You ever think about all the things
That make you, you?
The faces and the places
And the battles you've been thru

Uncle drove us by a cross-burning
In nineteen and seventy-eight
I'd like to think he was a good man
But I can't understand that hate

Was a teacher in fourth grade
Made fun of how I talked
Does it make you feel big
To make a nine-year-old feel so small?

Momma had a George Wallace sign
In our front yard
Some things never die
And those that do die real hard

Was a rumor got spread
I beat up the school bully when I was ten
I never shot it down
And I never had to fight again

I remember her perfume
And leaning back the seat in her car
She placed my hand on her breast
'Cause she knew I'd never been that far

Six months on she was falling
For some spoiled rich kid
Wrote me letters later on
But I was never going back again

Lost my last grandparent
In nineteen and ninety-two
Left a hole I'd never fill
And I bailed like a bat out of school

Got engaged to a girl
With green eyes and teenage dreams
Haven't heard from her in years
But she's sewn into my seams

She left without a word
After two years of my mood swings
I've come to realize
That's the only way to truly leave

Mom and Dad divorced
December, two thousand and three
It took me years to understand
The cold effect it had on me

Momma got an apartment
And Daddy sold the house in June
You want to go home
But there's no place to go home to

I leaned heavy on my sister
And she leaned heavy on me
There's nothing like someone
Who has seen the things you have seen

Met a girl I thought I'd marry
When I was thirty-three
Another great love lost
To some fucked up brain chemistry

I knew that it was over
But I still kept hanging on
We all want closure
But sometimes closure never comes

Do you ever think about all the things
That make you, you?
The faces and the places
And the battles you've been thru