Every day you hurt me;
Every day I burn.
No peace, love, or sympathy,
It's never my turn.
I fall in a black pit.
I hurt my own soul.
I say "What a big hit!"
And pick at every mole.
I've cut my veins in anger.
I've ripped out every hair.
I've put my self in danger,
But the scars are still there.
Every day you hurt them;
Every day they burn.
And I know how they feel.
I guess now it's their turn.
But you know that I'm weak,
And that you're very strong.
And someday when I peak,
I hope you know you're wrong.
I'll look past all these years.
I'll forget all my fears.
And I try to move on
By writing you songs
That you will never hear,
Because I wrote them.
Now, it's my turn.
I hope you burn.