Everything that you ever told me was a lie.
And with that I never question why.
From all the I love you's.
To the twisted mistakin point of views.
Everything that you ever said.
Made me wish that I was dead.
You called yourself a parent.
But look at how much time was spent.
You were always drunk.
After all that your image as a parent sunk.
You let him hit me.
Night after night, with the bruises to see.
I look at the pictures of my son.
And I can't do what you've done.
I won't leave my child out to die.
And won't tell him lies.
All the memories of you build up.
My childhood before my eyes.
Dreams haunt me.
Can you save me from my dreams.
You say you don't remember, but you do.
Cause these memories would kill you.
I'm never gonna do that to my son.
All the bruises I've had.
Do you remember mommy?
