Jimmy Bartlett's Teeth - The Taxpayers

There was this kid I used to know and he was born with the

wrong name and I would walk with him to school every day.

On

a cold October morning he was jumped by a gang of local high

school kids with pipes and rusty chains.

When the ambulance

arrived all his teeth were broken out and Jimmy Bartlett

never walked quite the same.

Turns out the house that he grew

up in had been stolen by a man 100 years before who shared his last name.

And while we’re talking about houses we grew up in, lemme

tell you about mine: it was an honest little one story place.

But when my mother died it became abandoned for a while, and

was quickly repossessed by the bank.

But then in 1985 a

couple neighborhood kids broke into the house through the

back door.

When the fire trucks arrived, it was burnt to the

ground.

There ain’t a sign of that house there any more.

But that’s alright.

When I was nine years old I watched a kid get his legs broken

because of his last name.

17 years later, an arson fire

burned down the house where I was born.

There ain’t no moral

to any of that and there ain’t nobody to blame.

It was just

one of those things.