You’re sitting in your room getting s**t-faced wasted,
Drinking away your pain, drowning your guilt,
Tell me dad, how has irony tasted?

She hears a rise in his voice as he stumbles from the stairwell,
Reminiscing on the days when he used to be her daddy,
Her daddy, not this monster, whose very soul makes the ground swell

You’re getting angrier now, your “baby girl” takes refuge behind a closed door,
She used to look UP to you, you used to be the one who made her feel safe, as you held her in your arms,
But now? F**k you, f**k that he says as he throws his daughter to the floor.

She’s sorry for everything, she swears she is,
Don’t you still love her? She thought she was your world,
She missed him so much he was always on her mind, little did she know she never even crossed his,
What happened to the chair? Oh wait it got hurled.

She was in so much pain, she begged to be killed,
This pain was so deep, not outside but within,
So I write to you now, dear daddy, I hope you’re fulfilled,
You’re baby girls broken, but go ahead and down that last bottle of gin.