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-