She was something in her formative years
She'd hide her accent it would reappear
When she would brag on what daddy bought last night
All the pretty girls were in that crowd
To tease a hand full of poor kids out loud
And even then i knew it wasn't right
Smoke rise, you were never kind
Good news i left you all behind
Some who hope that it would last
Smoke rise i'm glad you're in my past
Most of the kids were better than me
Or at least they thought so and it was plain to see
The children were cruel and i didn't have a fighting chance
I wasn't a jock, i wasn't a brain
We weren't well off and mama couldn't explain
Why no one would take a poor boy to the dance
-chorus 2x-
Spoiled rich kids find it hard to embrace
When they bus black kids from all over the place
The county tried to prove their schools were all the same
Ol' jim crow tried to integrate
But in the south it's hard to relate
When grandpa used the "n" word with no shame
-chorus 2x-