Alex Kona was twelve feet tall
His mother got killed by bowling ball
As she skipped across the wooden lane
Two frames from a perfect game

Ten years past the bowling crash
Alex found a wooden shack
Showered in the post war moon
That’s where Alex began to bloom

As the children left Sunday school
In gas masks and body suits
The reverend spoke of god’s revenge
Would be coming down the mountain

And the ground shook
The mother’s cried
The giant loomed in the yellow sky

With a look of dreaded fear
With a staff of pine and coat of deer
The mother’s watched with worried ear’s
Alex just laughed and stroked his beard
He said….

No you don’t understand
What its like
Growing up here