Straight Into Your Pocket

Fell in love with a war man
Taught me what the poets said
One day I wake to a screaming eye
Years later the waking tricks my lonesome cry

I straighten your pin
I straighten my hair
God doesn't look like a good man
No order to life is the key to strife
They taught me that in my home-ec class

Fell in line to the sound of a drum
Fell to my knees when my course was run
Skinned my knees on the thought of his face
His collar embraced his dark brown skin

Lord, when I die, let my secrets lie
The bread in the pantry soak the blood to run dry
The strong kill the weak and the weak stay poor
My dear, what are we fighting for

Stood by the door one last time
I'm taking my aim, taking my fire
Remember I traded these songs of yesterday
All for the sound of your hand grenade landing

I straighten your pin, a blow to the head
God doesn't look like a good man
No order to life is the key to strife
They taught me that in my home-ec class

I knew it was a bad sign
Late night TV was so right
What we don't have we steal from one another
Carry your vote to a grieving mother

Mother, what a lonesome cry
Mother, he was never mine
Mother, what a lonesome cry
Mother, straight into your pocket