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| Copyright Alice. E. Steimle - 2003 |
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| It took me quite a while before I could watlk Mama and Papa taught me words so I'd talk Perhaps I was a slow learner, they seemed so kind I'd say something wrong, Mama shook me, lost my mind Finally I learned anger and hate When Mama would call, I'd run for the gate I didn't move fast enough, and had to rush When I got inside my buttom met the brush |
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| I was always told that I was really bad Things I didn't understand, but then I was glad In my own little world, to the playhouse I would play Hoping she wouldn't find me, especially today Modeling in New York, piano lessens I'd go I tried so hard to please her, but that spoon I'd know Why did she hate me so, and what did I do so wrong I prayed to God every night that He'd make me strong |
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| If it wasn't the hairbrush or spoon, soon it was Papa's belt She'd beat me so hard, that I'd bleed causing me to welt Mama, Please don't hurt me, I would plead and cry As I grew older I just prayed that I'd die Years went by, to a man I would run That's when my heartache soon begun Mama's beatings were nothing compared to his blow Dear, Lord, please just let me see my babies grow |
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