It Doesn't Mean A Thing

I never knew my mother I can't say it was so bad She was still a girl of seventeen The night she met my dad He was just six months out of Chino Tryin' his hardest to stay clean When they'd sing and they'd sing and they'd sing Like doves sleepin' with broken wings In a bed fit for a king It didn't mean a thing It was a shotgun-forced wedding And they forgot to bring the guns They were busy countin' promises To the children not yet born No one could afford the ride Everyone hitched up the one oh one And they'd sing and they'd sing and they'd sing Like doves dancin' with broken wings With a view fit for a king It didn't mean a thing It was a lonliness they would confess Like the world had gone bad, I guess So they hold hands lookin' to the eyes of God They say, "Tell me, why'd you hide from us? Why'd you fill the world with wickedness? Why'd you spare us from your grace but not the rod?" Now my dad says, "Fuck the teachers, Just keep your head down hide. Gotta find yourself alone before you'll find the eyes of God" You may be broke and scared And mad and tear at the flesh of your own heart's strings But you were born to be a peasant not a king So just stop actin' like you're runnin' form something You're gonna leave the way you came without a thing With you're heart tied to your mind tied to a string You just sing and you sing and you sing It doesn't mean a thing