Choir Boy

4 Jan

I remember when the Riot got real Quiet
and Angus and his brother took a back seat on the shelf
KJET played Joey and DeeDee, Boy tumbled for me
by the Mirror In The Bathroom, that’s where I found myself,
and I admit I loved those Young Guns, a Karma Chameleon
when you’re only a lad you need a little Tenderness
with paint around my eyes, and a shaved head, some wanted me dead
so I went Up The Junction, to the Decline of the West

kid what are you a fag? cause you ain’t tough, you must be gay to listen to that stuff,
you think wearing pink gives you a place where you fit in,
but this town’s way too small can’t you see, you ain’t what coach wants you to be
sing your pretty little songs if it gives you so much joy
but we’ll make sure it hurts to be a hated choir boy

with new old friends like Major Tom and, Ziggy played it left hand,
changes always came and no one ever was to blame
our immunity was laughter and late discoveries after
and those of us you spit on just go further in the game
how those Sisters gave me Mercy, unearthly just like Percy
when Bela was undead and Sanctuary was for sale,
in the dark and misty moonlight with She’s In Parties all night
I went down Fascination Street and wore a heavy veil

kid what are you a corpse are you on “A” around the world in just one day
and you think wearing black gives you a place where you fit in,
this city is so small can’t you see, you ain’t what mom wants you to be?
forever young? a wasted life on poetry and chasing joy
do you like how it hurts to be a hated choir boy

and at last people are just people, it was foreseeable
that I’d immortalize you, cause every day I write the book
and I have also been a tough creep, but dirty deeds are dirt cheap
and either way they judge you based on how they think you look

so, hey, what am I now? it’s no, concern of yours, if anything I’ve sorely learned,
unless you’re true to you, there is no place where you’ll fit in,
this world is so small, can’t you see, you’ll always be what you will be
you can’t go home expecting anyone to validate your joy

do you remember me? I was a hated choir boy

© 2006 brent david fraser, all rights reserved

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