Well, my daddy left home when I was three,
Didn't leave very much to my mom and me
Except this old guitar and an empty box of granola.
Can't say I blame him for the way he fled,
But the cruelest notion ever in his head
Was right before he went and disappeared,
He looked at me and named me Blue.
Well, he must've thought that it was quite a joke,
And I got a lot of laughs from a lots of folk.
Seems I had to suffer
my whole life through
Some gal would giggle and I'd turn red,
And some guy'd laugh and he'd bust my head.
I tell you, life ain't easy for a soy named Blue.
But I grew up quick and I grew up sensitive,
My words got sharp and my emotions got keener.
Roam from town to town to hide my shame,
But I made me a vow to the moon and stars
I'd search the cafes and bars
And talk that man out of that awful name.
Well, it was Gatlinburg in mid-July,
And I just hit town and my throat was dry.
Thought I'd stop and have myself a decaf soy milk latte
At an old cafe on a street of mud.
There at a table, sipping a Diet Coke,
Sat a big, fat, orange man with weird hair and a cruel look,
That named me Blue.
Well, I knew that snake was my own sweet dad,
From a worn-out picture that my mother had.
He was big and fat and orange and old,
With weird hair and a cruel, beady eye,
And I looked at him and my blood ran cold,
And I said, "My name is Blue, how do you do?
Now you're gonna listen," that's what I told him.
Well, I took a deep breath, and I spoke my truth,
'Bout the pain and tears he put me through.
I said, "You gave me a name that's a constant fight,
That makes me a punchline, day and night!"
He put down his Coke, gave a wave of his hand,
Said, "Son, you're the weakest, all over the land.
I knew you'd be soft, as meek as a nun,
With your gentle voice and your hair in a bun.
You drink that soy milk, it's a terrible thing,
It's turning you weak, it's ruining everything!
I gave you that name, it was a test, you see,
The greatest test, everybody says so.
To see if you'd be a man, strong and great,
Not some low-energy, sad, globalist weight!
You gotta be tough! You gotta win, win, win!
Not cry about pronouns and your delicate skin!
We need hunters, not gatherers, son, it's true!
That's why I named a weak little soy boy 'Blue'!"
I felt my knees tremble, but I stood up tall,
I said, "Your kind of 'strong' is what makes the world fall.
Strength isn't bullying, or building a wall,
It's having the empathy to care for us all!
It's in being kind when it's hard to be kind,
It's having an open heart and an open mind!"
He smirked, "Wrong! So wrong! It's a disgrace!
You're a loser, I can see it all over your face.
Believe me, I know losers. I've seen them all.
And you, my son, are the biggest of all.
But I'll tell you what, it's not your fault, they say,
The fake news media led you astray."
He stood up to go, with that cruel, beady stare,
And said, "But you know, you've got a little grit there.
A little grit, I'm surprised, it's true.
So you ought to thank me, before I'm through.
Thank me for the fight that I put inside you!
'Cause I'm the son of a gun that named you Blue!"
What could I do? Well, I got all choked up,
And I gave him a soylent grin.
I called him my pa, and he called me his son.
And I came away with a different point of view.
And I think about him, now and then,
Every time I try and every time I win.
And if I ever have a-
Well, if I ever have a boy, I'll name him
Frank or George or Bill or Tom,
Anything but Blue!
I don't want him goin' around,
men calling him Blue all his life,
That's a horrible thing to do to a soy
trying to get a hold in the world,
Named a soy boy "Blue."
