On a Sunday sitting shotgun, I sang six bars
Of a Dolly Parton tune my father hates
He pulled over the car and grabbed me by the arm
And said "You've got no family unless you change"
Daddy always leaves me on the side of the road
With the gutter trash where I belong
I could try to fight him, but the outcome would be worse
What's so wrong with me? I must be cursed
I traipsed along that winding ditch 'til dusk came
When the neon of the grocer's caught my eye
A cashier name-tagged Lacey on their lunch break
Asked me, "What brings you this way? I like your style"
And I said, "Daddy always leaves me on the side of the road
With the gutter trash where I belong
I could try to fight him, but the outcome would be worse
What's so wrong with me? I must be cursed"
Now Lacey got so angry, I just panicked
And my feet flew backwards fast to get away
They said, "Don't you move an inch. To hear that makes me sick,
You're not so alone. My pa's the same."
And they said "Daddy always leaves me on the side of the road
With the gutter trash where I belong
I could try to fight him, but the outcome would be worse
What's so wrong with me? I must be cursed"
I packed my bags with hurried hands 'til dawn came
And I prayed to get away would break that curse
I found a place with Lacey, and the change was plain as day
The first time I felt loved was with the family I chose
Because Daddy always leaves me on the side of the road
With the gutter trash where I belong
I could try to fight him, but the outcome would be worse
What's so wrong with me? I must be cursed
Daddy always leaves me on the side of the road
With the gutter trash where I belong
I could try to fight him, but the outcome would be worse
What's so wrong with me?
What's so wrong with me?