Lyrics to Queer

Dave Bidini and Dave Clark



You woke the wrecking yard hounds

When you slammed the passenger side

Father watched you from the yard

With his knuckles wrapped in ice

Now the screen door is still broken

Since you kicked your Kodiaks through it

But we left the Christmas tree standing

In case you turned around



Now I've heard you've got a good job

Pitching hay down in Salmon Arm

Maybe I'll hike there from the coast

When the weather starts to warm

K.D. called on the weekend;

She was crying on the telephone

'Cause father said as far as he's concerned

You've been stricken from our home



He's gone out of his head

(She's gone out of her head.)

He's gone out of his head

(She's gone out of his head.)

He's gone out of his head

Sometimes choices aren't so clear



Father raged like a soldier

He put his fist through the kitchen door

When I said it would have been better if

You had split on your own accord

I don't care about the damage

But I wish you were there to see it

When I scored a hat-trick on the team

That called you a fucking queer



Gonna find me another home

The things you'll never know

The things you'll never feel

The things you'll never see

The times you'll never know



(I'm in the country now, among the rattlesnakes and the sage-brush. The concrete and asphalt and glass are gone, and in its place is well water and black spruce and gravel roads which snake and curl and wind through the valley. I wish you were here to watch the sun sneak above the mountains and play with the pure light across the farmland; it'll fuck your mind up. But I'm glad I'm here and not there. If I had stayed, I would've killed him. I would have come home and found him asleep on the couch, and walked up to him and pressed the gun against his head, and watched it explode in a glorious watercolor fountain, all thick and red and gory. I would have used it to paint the picture I'm seeing now.)