Yvette

I can barely make out

The light from the house on the cul-de-sac,

Bedroom upstairs.

It's a family affair.

I've watched you in class,

Your eyes are cut glass,

And you stay covered up,

Head to your toe,

So nobody will know

's you.

And I might not be

A man yet.

That bastard will never be.

So I'm cleaning

My Weatherby

And I sight in my scope.

I hope against hope,

I hope against hope.

nuh nuh, nuh-nuh hun-nuh-nuh

nuh nuh, nuh-nuh hun-nuh-nuh

Your Mother seems nice

I don't understand why

She won't say anything.

Cause if she can't see,

Who he turned out to be.

I might not be

A man yet.

Your Father will never be.

So I load up my Weatherby,

And I let out my breath

And I couple with Death,

I couple with Death

Saw your Father last night

in the window the light

made a silhouette.

Saw him hold you that way.

He won't hold you that way

Anymore.. Yvette.