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