Roland Finn

He was a dirt simple boy
He had a limp, he had a lazy eye
He was twisted by birth
His dad said he should have died
Don't know what did it
Genetic misprint
Or mommy's selfish sin
I guess a little of both created Roland Finn.​

And all summer long
I'd see him wading in his kiddie pool
He'd say, "Mom says next year
"I can go with you to public school"
But every morning
The bus'd roll up
And we'd all pile in
And all alone on his porch sat Roland Finn.​

And they don't make no medication
To cool the burn of humiliation
So he didn't waste determination
On someone else's world
A kid like that don't got the right
A kid like that don't learn to fight
(Get his head kicked in)
Best thing to do, forget how to cry
But they'd watch to see that tear appear
Below his crippled eye
He'd cock his head and turn beet red
Like some mad, perverted clown
Hyenas on a buffalo, they'd drag big Roland down again
Sometimes I hated Roland Finn.​

And most afternoons
I could see him waiting for my bus
So I'd rush to get off
Kinda scared but mostly curious
Was it bravery
Or was he crazy
He knew what they'd do to him
I guess he didn't want to believe he was Roland Finn.​

And, whether cowardice or kindness
I grab his arm and never look behind us
And run to a place they'd never find us
Except they always did
Too scared to say he was my friend
I'd watch them take him down again
(I was just a little kid)
A laughing child
Is mom and dad's most joyful noise
But there ain't
No sound more hideous
Than laughing little boys
To a nine-year-old who's told that he was
Born to be ashamed
And a friend like me so scared that he could
Learn to turn the blame on him
God, I'm so sorry, Roland Finn.​