Song Description

The senseless Boston Marathon bombing ignited this composition, kids of that kind, hell-bent on copying terrorist headlines needing elimination from modern society

Lyrics

Kids of that Kind


I was walking down the footpath
My guitar slung on my back
In a patched-up case
When this old man crossed the road
Looked me up and down suspicious
Said in haste
What's that stuff strapped on your back son
Something stupid on your mind?
A bitter taste?
You young kids are far removed from
Days when I was growing up
It's a disgrace

I looked him fair-square in both eyes
Sincerely said "not guilty Sir" my smile
A hard resort
It's just an old guitar that I play for pleasure
Not that I've been taught
Yeah I play for pleasure
Not that I've been taught

It occurred to me this piece of conversation
Was surely prompted by the evil deeds
Of kids around who want to blow the world up
Kids of a kind last thing the whole world needs
Yeah I agreed with this old man
I understand
It's a disgrace
I apologise Sir
Apologise Sir for
Kids of that kind


I kept walking down the footpath
My guitar slung on my back
In its case
With a bus to catch to the city
A gig to play at a pub
No time to waste
I apologise again Sir, rest assured
There's nothing stupid on my mind
No bitter taste
No revenge thing on my mind
No axe to grind
Rest assured no axe to grind

Bridge:
It's not fair kids of that kind tar us all with the same brush
It's an embarrassment, atrocity, we shouldn't have to share
I tell you Sir, it's just not fair
An embarrassment, gross evil, innocent kids shouldn't share
It's just not fair
Not fair at all
Kids of that kind

Hey, there's my bus to take me to the city
Better run, no time to waste
I apologise again Sir, please believe
I'm innocent, no malice up my sleeve
No bitter taste
Yeah it's just not fair
Not fair at all
Kids of that kind
Kids of that kind
Kids of that kind
Kids of that kind

Copyright Gary Woods, April 23rd, 2013. APRA/AMCOS Reg: GW