
The Kelly Song Collective
Red Headed Step Child
My mother had the worst luck with men
Like the biker who wrote her letters from the pen
The mayor and his brother, the priest and his lover
Every Tom and Dick in this country’s ecumene
She married a reformed Buddhist monk
Used his robes for drapes, but man did he get drunk
Whiskey with his toast, but he loved Lysol-spritz the most
He’d breathe into my eye I’ll get you punk
And he beat me like a red headed step child
Didn’t need a reason to go off like a bomb
Mama I know you’re not to blame
If you think I’m taking his name
You’re as crazy as that bastard you brought home
She looked like Rita Hayworth and that’s no lie
He looked Charles Manson when he was high
Didn’t like my rufus locks, so I hung out on the block
Told my mama that one day I’d say good-bye
I had a father that I never knew
Mama says he was troubled just like you
Though she doesn’t know for sure, she thinks he sold manure
That explains all the shit that I’ve been through
He came home one night and passed out on the stairs
So I took his keys and finally headed out of there
Crying in the street, but found his wallet on the seat
Put the pedal down and hit the open air
Mailed his ID back with a little note
If you touch one ginger hair I’ll cut throat
I’m not a violent man, but you must understand
I love my mom but you I loathe the most
Now Mother’s passed and my beard is turning grey
I made a life a 1000 miles away
Had to settle her affairs, but I met him on the stairs
I said hello I’ve waited for this day
​
​
© Michael Worthington Music 2019

Week 1 of Song A Week Project 2.0