Been stricken sick She could be the cure
And I felt quite sure I opened every door
It makes me sick; the things I do for you
The shit that I go through, but I can't make you secure
For once make it go away
Give me what I want and I'll be fine
I need some attention You can help me clean my wounds
Gotta lot of sewing up to do
And I know what it's like when they're twisting your arm
And it's difficult I'm sure when you don't know who you are
But they don't own you though they may seem to
But isn't that what it means when you belong?
Isn't that what you wanted all along?
Hadn't you realized you might be wrong?