by Dean Friedman I was only four when my father left home. Little baby sister, mama and me. They were only children when they got married. How they gonna raise a family? Daddy got a job in a canned good factory Working like a fool day after day. Coming home to TV thrills and doctor bills Till he had to take a cut in pay. He said, I've had enough. I've had enough. I've had enough. I've had enough. I was always trouble when I was in school. Someone always making me tow the line. Finally went and told the bastard where to go. He can get theirs, but he can't touch mine. I was in the army when I was sixteen. All the rain I thought it would never stop Brought away an armload of souvenirs and Now you know I still can't find a job. I said, I've had enough. I've had enough. I've had enough. I've had enough. Help me. Help me. Help me. Help me. I don't want to hurt. I have always done my best. But nothing seems to work. Nothing seems to work. I was never asking for charity, Only that I get what I have earned And that I be treated with respect And God knows why but you've still not learned. I am not a liar or insincere. I have always treated you people fair. There were times I turned my whole self inside out but damn it You never seemed to care. Now, I've had enough. I've had enough. I've had enough. I've had enough.