No Idea from Fourth Floor by Mouth Washington

Reuben was the oldest
My favorite was Ruth
Worried what my mom might think
Worried what my dad could do
If they knew I was skipping school
If they knew I was sniffing glue
If they had any idea what I would go on to do
They didn’t have a clue

They had no idea
What I’d go on to do
No idea
Neither did you
No Idea
What I’m about to do
No Idea

When my cousin Miguel first got home
He lit a joint right in the middle of the road
From his right front pocket he pulled out a photo
He has a little girl’s head in his hand
I know at the time I just didn’t understand
Is that what it took him to become a man
At the the time I guess I didn’t know
Why he’d have her head in his hand

I had no idea
What he’d go on and do
No Idea
His wife too
No Idea
What he’s about to do

• Rock
• post-punk
• Portland