The first thing i remember was the friction in the room   And that brown spinet piano that never played in tune    The cruel impatient tyrant, the frustrated malcontent   The need to find the pieces, and the absence of cement       No one ever told me about the right way to love   And no one ever showed me what we're supposed to be made of   So don't be too forthright about what you think that I should be    And I'll willingly accept your low opinion of me       The last thing I remember was the slamming of the door    And the resonance of my imperfection broke the silence once more    The selfish angry bastard who doesn't want to hear   I tried to learn compassion you turned the other ear      The worn out broken record who doesn't fit the mold   The righteous independent, the mood so harsh and cold       Momma never told me about the right way to love   And daddy never showed me what we're supposed to be made of    So don't be too forthright about what you think that i should be    And i'll willingly accept your low opinion of me