I come from a town out west
Where they traded coal for meat and bread
But a year ago they closed down the mine ,
No demand for black gold. so they said
My father drank his savings away
I'd run when he drew near
From morning to night he'd hit the bars
And hit us when he couldn't buy beer
Never had enough beer

So I hitched out east to St. Paul
Where they don't trade bread for coal
And Vito gave me something to eat
In an even trade for my soul
And sometimes I think that Vito
Reminds me of my Dad
He loves his money like Dad loved beer
And he beats us when times are bad
Times are always bad

I am now fifteen years old
But you wouldn't know by my face
With heavy mascara and tight blue jeans
And a low-cut blouse of lace
Sometimes I see sad images
Of my sister and my mother
And how I left them with hopeful eyes
To trade one bad dream for another
Another bad dream

© 1985 David Seitz