Bastard Child

© Meesa Caudill

Well I was born a bastard child
in the summer of '79.
My daddy was a good ol' boy
so he stuck by my momma's side.
Two weeks later they were wed
in a small ceremony in town-
daddy became a family man
and never let momma down.
He held tight to the Bible,
almost became a preacher man-
wanted a country life full of God
but momma didn't understand.
He started sippin' on the bottle
in the summer of '95.
He tried to drown all his regrets,
so sad, he hated his life.

Daddy was a God fearin' man,
momma was a gypsy soul.
Daddy wanted to grow country roots,
momma was always on the go.
I'm the twisted child of that union-
I'm the two halves of that whole.

Momma was always wanting more
than what Daddy could ever give.
She wanted to have fun, a nice car to drive,
she wanted a nice place to live.
We'd move at least once every year
because Momma would get so bored.
Pack up our things and start over again,
Daddy knew it was more than he could afford.
But Momma loved him with all her heart,
she just had an unsettled side.
And Daddy loved her the best he could,
often swallowing his pride.
Then one day he took his own life
and tore Momma's world apart.
Things haven't been the same since that cold day
when Daddy ripped out Momma's heart.
But she holds the faith that he taught her
so many years ago-
she tries to pass it on to this bastard child
but that child has a long way to go.

Daddy was a God fearin' man,
Momma was a gypsy soul.
Daddy wanted to grow country roots,
Momma was always on the go.
I'm the twisted product of that union-
I'm the two halves of that whole.

So now here I am, the bastard child,
left here to find my own way.
My Daddy's pride keeps me grounded,
while Momma's gypsy side makes me stray.
Torn between the two halves of myself
that mimic them so well-
hoping to find my Momma's faith
but fighting my Daddy's hell.