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Them Bird Things
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Caril Ann
I killed a mockingbird
thought it's a sin
and I shot a bullfrog
again and again and again and...
Mama whipped me
left lesions on my back
right there and then
I swore I'd get my own back
I would get them back
one by one
a teenage tantrum
a terrific mistake
eleven stolen lives
marking our wake
storm cellar rage
the picture still remains
blue-eyed broken boy
corn-fed and dead
I don't know
why I done did what I did
I was just a kid
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just a kid
'and it seems as though I could see
my heart before my eyes, turning dark
black with Hate of Rages, or harhequinade,
stripped from that munner life
leaving only naked being-Hate.'
most mornings I wish
when they pulled that leather strap
I'd been right there
sitting on his lap
never a bride
still Charlie's little bitch
the years, they have passed
and the only hitch is who to be
Caril Ann, what you've done to me?
I don't know
why I done did what I did
I was just a kid
just a kid
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