I kiss the hand that slaps me

Beat the hand that helps me,

It’s all about the maybes

All about the phantoms that will always haunt me.

Built a house out of cards,

And my dreams out of mortar,

You said it wouldn’t last

And then you tipped it over.

You set me up to fall with no ground underneath me

With nothing to support me.

Squeezed me dry of my emotions

And I know that you didn’t love me,

But I always woke up with a hopeful maybe,

Maybe I can make it.

Always standing on the outside looking in,

In the hopes that one day you’ll let me in.

How can the mess you made

Be more important than the child you’ve raised?

How can you walk around with a smile on your face,

When the child you’ve raised can barely make it through the day?

Everything is beautiful from the outside,

But nothing is right on the inside.

Used to kiss the hand that slapped me,

Beat the hand that helped me

Because that is, who you made me