Pity The Child 12

UGH. This page. Gave me SO MUCH TROUBLES.

I actually re-drew this page, once, despite my initial focus on "Not worrying so much about the drawing" for these. Forshortening ate my ass, and then trying to get the feeling across that I wanted. In the end, I ended up with neither I think, but I enjoy the lyrics too much to just cut the page >.<


I really don't think there's any saving this page so.... let's just move on, shall we? >.<



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When I was 9, I learned survival. Taught myself not to care.

I was my single, good companion. Taking my comfort there.

Up in my room, I planned my conquests. All alone, never asked for a helping hand. No-one would understand.

I never asked the ones who moved below. Just incase they said "No."

Pity the child that has ambition. Knows what he wants to do. Knows that he'll never fit the system others expect him to.

Pity the child who knew his family. Saw their faults, saw the love die before his eyes. Pity the child that wise.

He never asked "Did I cause your distress?" ... just incase they said "Yes."

When I was 12, my father moved out. I wasn't enough to keep him about.

I didn't miss him, he made it perfectly clear that I was a fool and probably queer.

I took the road of least resistance, I had my games to play. I had the skill, and more, the hunger, easy to get away.

Pity the child wiht no such weapons, no defence no escape from the ties that bind. Always a step behind.

I never called to tell him all I'd done. I was only his son.

Pity the child, but not forever. Not if he stays that way. He can get all he ever wanted... if he's prepared to pay.

Pity, instead, the careless father. What he missed, what he lost when he Let me go. And I wonder if he knows...

I wouldn't call, a crazy thing to do. Just incase he says "... who?"


Lyrics (more or less) from Chess.
Actual Lyrics: [link]
YouTubes: [link]