My life is like a broken record,
Everything's skipping and repeating,
All the hate and the anger swirling in me,
Always pushing out like the branches on a tree,
My mother hates me,
But that's no surprise,
It seems that my life's a web of lies,
It doesn't get easier,
As the time goes by,
Like a shirt on the clothesline,
I'm washed up up,I'm Dry.
I don't know how much longer I can bare,
The weight of my world is just unfair
