In my pain, I spoke in cruel tones
The man was old and small and used a crutch
Letting bitter rage scream from my bones
Oh, better it would be to utter moans
Than let my anguish out in feet or inch.
In my pain, I spoke in cruel tones
What a person is may soon be known
He turned and smiled as if I’d brought him luck
Letting bitter rage scream from my bones
So this old man’s mature and fully grown
And will not cause me pain by any trick
In my pain, I spoke in cruel tones
Can I ever call my soul my own;
I, unfit, his ancient boots to lick
Letting bitter rage scream from my bones
I seemed colder than a stone or brick
His love made my own errors feel antic
In my pain, I spoke in cruel tones
Letting bitter hurt scream from my bones
