See him walking down the street...
With overran shoes untied on his feet.
He always has a sullen look...
Backpack filled with obscure books.
You never hardly see him play...
Start a party, he will not stay.
Straight from school to his home...
In his room to be alone.
He seems aloof; different from others...
Not extroverted like his sisters and his mother.
Doesn't mind when people sneer...
"What's wrong with him...is he queer?"
He's got a stack of LPs in his hands...
Hendrix, Coltrane and punk rock bands.
It's not rap; we can not relate...
"He is crazy for heaven's sake!!!"
Oh...sullen child...
Behind coke bottle glass your mind runs wild.
You wish you could leave this indifferent place...
Walk your life at your own pace.
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