Their Early Years (Live)

Once when we were on a bus
Between some cities
We discussed the things
That happened in their early years

Their youngest time was spent alone
While living with an uncle
Only half remaining from a foreign war
All his upper half was well enough
But in his pants, between his cuffs
And where his zipper stopped
His legs were gone

So he rolled around on wheels
Self-sufficient in a peeling little house
He could not paint again
But it was spotless to a point
Two feet above the floor
And warmth was in his smile
And in his laughing face

The people that they met were few
And might have been disturbed
By two who looked so strange
But they were not aware
For living with their stumpy uncle
Who was unconcerned and rumpled
Made them see things differently

They thought that we were put together randomly
Just like the weather
With no thought of uniformity
But this vision only lasted for a while
Until he passed away
And they were sent off to a home

The children there did not have parents
Were all alike and always staring
As they sat on chairs above the ground
So the twins cried and then withdrew
From those who shouted, laughed, and who were mean
Because of suffering inside

Once alone they heard some children shouting
That a car had killed one of their pets
Out in the road ahead
As they approached the fallen dog
Inside a pool of blood they saw
A leg that had been torn away somehow
So they kneeled upon the ground
And lifted up the leg they found
And wedged it tightly just below the spot
Where their shoulders were combined

And then the sun, which had been shining
Winked, and for a moment all was dark
But when the sun returned above them
No one laughed or made fun of them
For the dog was licking at their joint
Barking loud and resurrected
And causing them to be respected
By those who had avoided them before