Текст песни
Dad was three months dead when they first found him
A stiff with a stiff drink clutched in his hand
Sis scorned my deaf ears for the 21 guns
If he'd done her like me she'd understand
No one tells me what to do
It's down to me who I choose to be
I've your DNA but I'm DIY
Pardon me for questioning mom's judgement
When choosing men for marriages & flings
Alcoholics, sadists, rapists, narcissists
On the estate you get used to those kindsa things
Like getting my allowance after moonshine duty done
& listening to mom's men's drunk friends all night was kinda fun
I cherished friends & neighbors & despised authority
No one tells me what to do; not even me
No one tells me what to do
It's down to me who I choose to be
I've your DNA but I'm DIY