He's not daddy's little soldier |
He's not Mama's little man |
Black and blue marks on his shoulder, |
Some deep scratches on his hand |
|
His parents say he's crazy |
Say he's wild, out of control |
Though he looks for them on TV |
There's no Shadow Child patrol |
|
Shadow Child in the bedroom |
Shadow Child on the stair |
Shadow Child in the darkness |
When you look he's never there |
|
He's learned to hate Dad's bottle |
And he's learned to fear Mom's shout |
He's learned the sting of leather |
Without ever crying out |
|
Shadow Child in the bedroom |
Shadow Child on the stair |
Shadow Child in the darkness |
When you look he's never there |
|
His parents say he's crazy |
Say he's wild, out of control |
Though he looks for them on TV |
There's no Shadow Child patrol |
|
He's not daddy's little soldier |
He's not Mama's little man |
Cigarette burns on his shoulder, |
Fourteen stitches in his hand |