The father of a boy named Sue
Okay now, years ago I wrote a song called “A Boy Named Sue”, and that
was okay and
everything, except then I started to
think about it and I thought : It is unfair, I am looking
at the whole thing from the poor kid's point of
view.
And as I get more older and more fatherly, I
begin to look at things from an old man's point
of view. So I decided to give the old man equal
time. Okay, here we go !
C
1. Yeah, I left home when the kid was three,
F
and
it sure felt good to be fancy free,
G C
though
I knew it wasn't quite the fatherly thing to do.
C
But that kid kept screamin' and throwin' up,
F
and pissin' in his pants till I had enough,
G
C
so
just for revenge I went and named him Sue. Yeah.
C
2. It was Gatlinberg in mid July,
F
I was gettin'
drunk but gettin' by,
G C
gettin' old and goin' from
bad to worse,
C
when
thru the door with an awful scream
F
comes
the ugliest queen I've ever seen,
G
he
says, “My name is Sue, how do you do ?
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Then he hits me with his purse.
C
3. Now this ain't the way he tells the tale,
F
but
he scratched my face with his fingernails,
G
C
and
then he bit my thumb and kicked me with his high-heeled shoe.
C
So I hit him in the nose and
he started to cry,
F
and
he threw some perfume in my eye.
G
C
and
it sure ain't easy fightin'
with a boy named Sue.
C
4. So I hit him in the head with a caned-back chair,
F
and
he screamed, “Hey, Dad, you mussed my hair !”
G
C
And he hit me in the navel and knocked out a
piece of my lint.
C
He was spittin'
blood, I was spittin' teeth,
F
and
we crashed through the wall and out into the street,
G
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a kickin’ and gougin' in the mud
and the blood and the creme de menth.
C
5. Then out of his garter he pulls a gun,
F
I'm about to get shot by my
very own son,
G C
he's screamin' bout Sigmund Freud and lookin'
grim uh.
C
So I thought fast and I told
him some stuff,
F
how I
named him Sue just to make him tough,
G
C
and I
guess he bought it 'cause now I'm livin' with him.
C
6. Yeah, he cooks and sews and cleans up the place,
F
he
cuts my hair and shaves my face,
G
C
and
irons my shirts better than a daughter could do.
C
And on the nights that I can't
score,
- F
well,
I can't tell you anymore,
G C
sure
is a joy to have a boy named Sue.
G C
Yeah, a son is fun, but it's a
joy to have a boy named Sue.
(Shel
Silverstein)