A Bad Time

If there’s anything I’ve learned from before I was eighteen

It’s that people can be hard and cruel and mean

Now don’t get me wrong; some people can be nice

But what are the chances with my unlucky dice

Ever since I was a wee little lad

Other kids would call me names and make me sad

I was never good at sports or smart at all

I had trouble studying and I wasn’t very tall

I remember the first time I was stuffed in a locker

And the fourth and the fifth wasn’t really a shocker

My nickname was faggot or gay boy or les

My school life was a sad movie put on high res

I would go home and cry to my mom and my dad

They never asked how my day was; they knew it was bad

I would eat dinner and run way up to my room

Where at least here there was a little less gloom

I would take out my guitar and start playing a song

I would sing to my favorite artists; the hours were long

I forgot about the names I was called

I forgot about those other kids and about getting mauled

So this one goes out to the greatest thing ever

My guitar saved my life; it made everything better

And to those of you that used to treat me like trash

I forgot your names already and your memories are ash