James Daniel Nelson

Lyrics

Pop

Pop was a chain-smoking old Puerto Rican man
Stumbled off the island, and he ended up here
Where he never went to school, like all he needed
Was a tab and a barstool for his chosen career

Whoa, little bit of a sore spot for me
Whoa, sometimes I get blindsided
Whoa, when I suddenly remember
That I hated the man, and I loved him

Pop was slow-minded, not much for thinking, was he?
Hardly ever spoke without a slur in his words
And he met my achievement with a wave of dismissal
Though he saw so little ‘cause his vision was blurred

Whoa, little bit of a sore spot for me
Whoa, sometimes I get blindsided
Whoa, when I suddenly remember
That I hated the man, and I loved him

Pop’s been dead now for a number of years
And I wish I could say that I have shed him a tear
He was just some guy, slept in the next room
With his hands wrapped tightly ‘round a forty of beer

And I say Whoa, little bit of a sore spot for me
Whoa, many times I get blindsided
Whoa, when I suddenly remember
That I hated the man, and I loved him

Whoa, it still remains a sore spot for me
Whoa, many times I get blindsided
Whoa, when I suddenly remember
That I hated the man