My, My, what we have here.
A girl sitting alone on a swing.
Only because the kids won't go near.
Bruises and cuts, She'll never sing.
All of them think they're higher then her
Mightier than her
Brighter than her
She's part of "their" kind
She's part of "their" world
She's not worthy
She's not ours
She's not alive
Only because the kids won't go near.
Bruises and cuts, she'll never write.
All of them think they're more blessed than her
Caring than her
Loved than her
She's got a disease
She's not treatable
She's not lovable
She's not worthy
Not ours
Not alive
Only because the kids won't go near.
Bruises and cuts, she'll never play.
All of them think they will be saved before her
They will be cured before her
They will be thought of before her.
She's corrupted
She's a sin
She's a whore
She's a lesbian
Not worthy, not ours, not alive.
To them.
But she's an angel
She's got talent
She's got a voice
She's got parents
She's got love
She's already been saved from this generation
Who think she's what's wrong
When she is what's right
Though she is a gift
She may never have a friend
Though she is sweet
She'll never be loved
Though she has talent
She'll never be watched
Because of the person she is
And the person she loves
She'll never hear another "amen"
Since they kicked her out of the church
And wouldn't let her back in.
She'll never be able to say "I do"
Because it is against the law
To tell the truth.
And anyone who has a problem with her
You have a disease
You've been cursed
She does not sin because of her ways
You sinned when you called her those names.
