Mr. Big bad man, I've got a question or
two for you.
Yeah, you.
Would you punch yourself in the face
'til you were black and blue?
Would you pour gas on yourself
then set yourself ablaze?
Talking to you!
Would you slap yourself around
'til you were in a daze?
Mr. tough guy, would you have sex with
yourself
against your will?
Hear me now!
And if you did, would you consider it a
thrill?
Would you spit on yourself then laugh
with glee?
I mean hawk and spit.
I know you wouldn't
so why do it to me?
When the shoe's on the other foot
the view isn't the same.
Understand me.
It's not music to your ears
to be called a nasty name.

When the shoe's on the other foot
the hunter becomes the prey.
Stalked.
In the middle of the night
try finding a place to stay.
When the shoe's on the other foot
it doesn't fit well.
Bunions, baby.
Having to lie that your lip's
swollen because you fell.
Here you are, walk in my shoes
for an hour or two.
Come again?
No, thank you? You decline to?
You waltz through life in slippers
While I trod in steel- toe boots.
Lord, they're heavy.
You want to stifle my spirit
and hew my soul at the very roots.
I've walked this path of despair
in tattered boots for too long.
Way too long.
The soles of my soul feel weary and
wronged.
Today, I walk a new path
shod in slippers of dignity.
Forever more I'll walk the path
that uplifts me.