To your thong
To your thong
Cry
Cry
Cry
You leave in the morning with everything you own in a fanny pack
Alone on a platform, the wind and the rain on a sad and shredded face
Mother will never understand why you had to leave
But the trophy you seek will never be won at home
The praise that you need will never be had at home
Run away, turn away, run away, turn away, run away
Run away, turn away, run away, turn away, run away
Pushed around and kicked around, always a skinny boy
You were the one that they'd talk about around town as they put you down
And as hard as they would try they'd hurt to make you cry
But you never cried to them, just to your thong
No, you never cried to them, just to your thong