What's The Matter Here

That young boy without a name

Anywhere I'd know his face

In this city the kid's my favorite

I've seen him

I see him every day

Seen him run outside

Looking for a place to hide

From his father

The kid half naked

And said to myself

"Oh, what's the matter here?"

I'm tired of the excuses

Everbody uses

He's their kid

I stay out of it

But who gave you the right

To do this?

We live on Morgan street

Just ten feet between

And his mother

I never see her

But her screams and cussing

I hear them every day

Threats like

"If you don't mind

I will beat on your behind"

"Slap you, slap you silly"

Made me say

"Oh, what's the matter here?"

I'm tired of the excuses

Everybody uses

He's your kid

Do as you see fit

But get this through

That I don't approve

Of what you did

To you own flesh and blood

I'm tired of the excuses

Everybody uses

He's your kid

Do as you see fit

But get this through

That I don't approve

Of what you did

To you own flesh and blood

"If you don't sit

In your chair straight

I'll take this belt

From around my waist

And don't you think

That I won't use it!"

Answer me and take your time

What could be the awful crime

He could do at such young an age?

If I'm the only witness

To your madness

Offer me some words to balance

Out what I see and what I hear

All these cold and rude

Things that you do

I suppose you do

Because he belongs to you

And instead of love

And the feel of warmth

You've given him these cuts

And sores won't heal

With time or age

I want to say

"What's the matter here?"

But I don't dare say

"What's the matter here?"

But I don't dare say