That young boy without a name anywhere I d know his face.
In this city the kid s my favorite.
I ve seen him. I see him every day.
Seen him run outside looking for a place to hide from his father,
the kid half naked and said to myself "O, what s the matter here?"
I m tired of the excuses everbody uses, he s their kid I stay out of it,
but who gave you the right to do this?
We live on Morgan Street;
just ten feet between and his mother, I never see her,
but her screams and cussing, I hear them every day.
Threats like: "If you don t mind I will beat on your behind,"
"Slap you, slap you silly."
made me say, "O, what s the matter here?"
I m tired of the excuses everybody uses, he s your kid, do as you see fit,
but get this through that I don t approve of what you did to you own flesh
and blood.
Solo over chords just like intro.
I m tired of the excuses everybody uses, he s your kid, do as you see fit,
but get this through that I don t approve of what you did to you own flesh
and blood.
"If you don t sit on this chair straight
I ll take this belt from around my waist and don t think that I won t use it!"
Answer me and take your time,
what could be the awful crime he could do at such young an age?
If I m the only witness to your madness offer me some words to balance out
what I see and what I hear.
All these cold and rude things that you do I suppose you do because he
belongs to you
and instead of love, the feel of warmth you ve given him these cuts and
sores won t heal with time or age.
I want to say, want to say "What s the Matter here?"
But I don t dare say.
"What s the Matter here?"
But I don t dare say. Say
*Listen to the song and use , it s easy to figure out.