I was probably the most embarrassed

When you passed him in the hall

And shrunk up against the wall

So as not to touch him

Or breathe the same air

And you looked like a little girl

A three-year old girl

Who missed a few smacks

That might have kept her

From becoming such a spoiled waste

An obvious room-revolting brat

Who leaves a bad taste in every mouth,

Even the most sympathetic

And I have to see that picture

Every so often

And I think as I look

Everyone knows what kind of bird that is

Your momma called you ugly