Author Information
with so many graves
She had no problem with the lyrics
But the beat was getting to her.
It wasn’t confusion that led to the breakdown,
But the understanding betrayed something.
And I grew up in a house
Were the idea of being raised was silly.
And were the idea of raising yourself up
Either meant you got to play,
That or you were just too arrogant.
You had to dabble in murmured bigotry,
People did not have to say much,
But you knew to be ashamed.
It was something like a soap opera,
It had a cast with high turnover,
And you could not ask were you would go
When your contract was up.
Feminine aggression meant strength meant little,
A talent for watery allegiances meant more than anything else,
And being a victim meant your belly would be eaten in a fashion to humble coyotes,
Unless you had a talent for playing victim, of course.
And she felt comfortable playing in the sand box,
Even if she was an adult now,
She just had to remember,
That with so many graves,
You can never dig very far.
