I know it's not a crime
Or even a mortal sin not to have
Thanked you more Mom
We had a lot to put up with
One another and you my father
I and you weren't one
And though I spurned you
It was as if you and Mom
Had picked up a hitchhiker
In the middle of a rainy night
What could he possibly be doing
And took me as a boarder
Someone always about to leave
For some impossible future
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