I remember in my younger years
Walking to the city pool
Got yelled at, called a faggot
From this kid I knew in school

His dad, and dad before him
lived outside of town
With a lack of education
The options weren't around

Sometimes I'd see that boy in class
With bruises on his eyes
Red and pretty swollen
Tears tangled up in pride

Repeating memorized rhetoric
About it being God's way
And if I didn't follow the good book
There'd be some hell to pay

But I don't blame you for how you turned out
A habit's hard to break
You're were born into what you became
And I was born this way
I can try to show compassion
Before you take that shot
Out here in the open
...Whether I like it or not

Driving back from a party
With friends on Saturday night
I slowed down to a wreckage
In the coldest part of night

That boy who called me faggot
Lie bleeding, almost dead
He wrecked that truck from drinking
And the windshield met his head

I pulled him from the driver seat
Said help is on its way
Put my hand up upon his chest
Said it'll be okay

When he focused on my likeness
I could see it in his eyes
Everything he'd been taught to hate
Would finally save his life

And the irony about this
I told him with a smile
Your God must work in stranger ways
than your heart will allow

He caught his breath between the tears
His eyes bloodshot and dim
His rebel-flag, tattooed hand, holding mine to him
He said...

Please don't blame me for how I turned out, I learned a little late
I was born into what I became
And you were born this way
I can try to show compassion
That might be all I've got
Out here in the open
...Whether I like it or not

Copyright: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Writer(s): BUTCH WALKER