That young boy without a name   Anywhere I'd know his face   In this city the kid's my favorite   I've seen him, I've seen a   I see him every day      Seen him run outside   Looking for a place to hide   From his father   The kid half naked   And said to myself   "Oh, what's the matter here?      I'm tired of the excuses   Everybody uses   He's their kid   I stay out of it   But who gave you the right   To do this?      We live on Morgan Street   Just ten feet between   And his mother, I never see her   But her screams and cussing   I hear them every day      Threats like   If you don't mind   I will beat on your behind   Slap you, slap you silly   Made me say   "Oh, what's the matter here?      I'm tired of the excuses   Everybody uses   He's your kid   Do as you see fit   But get this through   That I don't approve   Of what you did   To your own flesh and blood      I have heard the excuses   Everybody uses   He's your kid   Do as you see fit   But get this through   That I don't approve   Of what you did   To your own flesh and blood      If you don't sit   In your chair straight   I'll take this belt   From around my waist   And don't you think   That I won't use it      Answer me and take your time   What could be the awful crime   He could do at so young an age?   If I'm the only witness to your madness   Offer me some words to balance   Out what I see and what I hear      All these cold and rude   Things that you do   I suppose you do   Because he belongs to you   And instead of love   And the feel of warmth   You've given him these cuts   And sores that don't heal with time or his age      And I want to say, "Hi"   Want to say   "What's the matter here?"   But I don't dare say   "What's the matter here?"   But I don't dare say