The inescapable abyss in which you find yourself to be,
is caused primarily by a childhood non-ideal as I can see.
Prim and proper you've been told,
for manners haunt you till your old.
And so you make up no excuse,
Or the chances never unfold
With the lost secrets left untold,
Someday, someway it will unfold
and as they unfold:
keep your mouth shut,
your hair back and your chest up.
Black slacks and dinner coats
from the waist up
No toys from dinner, morning, noon or late night
Almost choke and collar that is airtight
Wish I could be there on the same night
So I could tell you, honey, everything is alright.
Still, your little heart is filled to the brim now
Thinking of ways, but your little self-doesn't know how
There's no point in playing 'nice guy', I realize now
There is no shame in acting out guys, I realize now
You can't talk back,
nor reply when you've been asked
You won't talk smack,
or dad will come whoop your ass.
You've been imprisoned as a child, and it has built up as you grew
and none more compassionate, for the tantrum that you threw.
It is normal for a child to be one when he really is,
for no one in the world understands him as he really is