Split Down the Middle

My mama says that when I was born, That I was split right down the middle. One minute I’d be hollerin’, The next I’d be as mellow as a marshmallow. She doesn’t know about me, But I’m one of her others. I’m not the only one in here with her, After all there is many of us. I’m the quiet shy one, I rarely come out to visit these days. I don’t like the others, They’re quite mean to me. There’s many of us in here, But we don’t come out too often. We like it in here though, No one ever bothers us. I guess my mama was right, But I’m split everywhere, Not just down the middle.