My dad left home when I was three, and he didn't leave much to mom and me. But the meanest thing he ever did, was before he left, he named me "Sue".
I've fought tougher men
He must thought that was a joke, but I had to fight my whole life through. Some gal would giggle and I'd get red. I tell you, life is hard for a boy named "Sue".
Son, this world is rough. I gave ya that name to help ya along. I knew you'd have to get tough or die. And that name helped to make you strong.
I'd roam from town to town to hide my shame. Finally, I found him in a bar. He was big and bent and gray and old. I looked at him and my blood ran cold.
I hit him hard right between the eyes. He came up with a knife and cut off a piece of my ear. I busted a chair right across his teeth, and we crashed through the wall and into the street. Kicking in the mud and the blood and the beer.
He went for his gun and I pulled mine first, he stood there looking at me and I saw him smile. He said...
I got all choked up and I threw down my gun. I called him dad, and he called me son. And I came away with a different point of view.