Alice lays across the table
Picking at the wood stain
Dad would yell get off of there
Paired with a look of destain
From mom and all our cousins
Who always talked and complained
How the food was cold
Or the lights were off In the kitchen
Mom and dad had always known
How to leave the marks and scrapes
And Alice had always known
She would always be a disgrace
On all our family heritage
She'd leave an awful stain
But I saw myself reflected in her
We're both one in the same