Song of the Southpaw

Verse 1: Ham-handed, southpaw, or lefty, Names for a trait that’s oh so hefty, Through history’s lens, misunderstood, Accused of things no one should. Chorus: Lefties, we’re the scrappy ones, Dancing to a beat of different drums, From Da Vinci to Hendrix’s tunes, We paint the skies, we touch the moons. Verse 2: Napoleon, the ambitious, ruthless man, Dillinger, the gangster, with a plan, But not all lefties walk the line, Obama signed his name in kind. Chorus: Lefties, we’re the scrappy ones, Dancing to a beat of different drums, From Da Vinci to Hendrix’s tunes, We paint the skies, we touch the moons. Bridge: Mixed-handed, cross-dominant ways, Throw with the right, but write all day, Ambidextrous by nurture’s call, Two of my five kids, lefties after all. Verse 3: Facing scissors, desks, and more, Ink smudges, spiral notebook wars, Oprah said it best, you see, Writing as a lefty’s not easy. Chorus: Lefties, we’re the scrappy ones, Dancing to a beat of different drums, From Da Vinci to Hendrix’s tunes, We paint the skies, we touch the moons. Outro: So here’s to you, the left-hand crew, August 13th, we celebrate you, Southpaw, lefty, we stand tall, Together we rise, together we fall.