Hands turn to micenMy watery eyes swaynMy bones melted inside menand I closed my anvil eyelidsnnI didn't even want to come innMy ears rang in the roomnAnd the drums and trumpetsnplayed to my entrance andnsaying, Boy, you look homelessnand you look uselessnWhat are you doing here?nnBut useless I am notnI can use what I've gotnand I threw it all around with my voicenAnd she joined in with menI swear, almost killed menand would have probablynif the kids weren't listening.