by Dean Friedman





I was only four when my father left home.

Little baby sister, mama and me.

They were only children when they got married.

How they gonna raise a family?



Daddy got a job in a canned good factory

Working like a fool day after day.

Coming home to TV thrills and doctor bills

Till he had to take a cut in pay. He said,



    I've had enough. I've had enough.

    I've had enough. I've had enough.



I was always trouble when I was in school.

Someone always making me tow the line.

Finally went and told the bastard where to go.

He can get theirs, but he can't touch mine.



I was in the army when I was sixteen.

All the rain I thought it would never stop

Brought away an armload of souvenirs and

Now you know I still can't find a job. I said,



    I've had enough. I've had enough.

    I've had enough. I've had enough.



        Help me. Help me. Help me. Help me. I don't want to hurt.

        I have always done my best. But nothing seems to work. Nothing seems to work.



I was never asking for charity,

Only that I get what I have earned

And that I be treated with respect

And God knows why but you've still not learned.



I am not a liar or insincere.

I have always treated you people fair.

There were times I turned my whole self inside out but damn it

You never seemed to care. Now,



    I've had enough. I've had enough.

    I've had enough. I've had enough.