Alex Kona was twelve feet tall His mother got killed by bowling ball As she skipped across the wooden lane Two frames from a perfect game
Ten years past the bowling crash Alex found a wooden shack Showered in the post war moon That’s where Alex began to bloom
As the children left Sunday school In gas masks and body suits The reverend spoke of god’s revenge Would be coming down the mountain
And the ground shook The mother’s cried The giant loomed in the yellow sky
With a look of dreaded fear With a staff of pine and coat of deer The mother’s watched with worried ear’s Alex just laughed and stroked his beard He said….
No you don’t understand What its like Growing up here
