.
.

What you did to me
made me see myself

Something different

Though I try to talk sense to myself

But I just won't listen

Won't you go away, turned yourself in

You're no good at confession

Before the image that you burned me in

Tries to teach you a lesson

What you did to me made me see myself

Something awful

A voice once Stentorian is now again

Meek and muffled

It took me such a long time to get back up

The first time you did it

I spent all I had to get it back, and now it seems

I've been out-bidded

My peace and quiet was stolen from me

When I was looking with calm affection

You were searching out my imperfections

What wasted unconditional love

On somebody

Who doesn't believe in the stuff

You came upon me like a hypnic jerk

When I was just about to settled

And when it counts you recoil with the cryptic word

You leave a love belittled

.
Oh what a cold and common

old way to go

.
I was feeding on the need for you to know me

Devastated at the rate you fell below me

What wasted unconditional love

On somebody

Who doesn't believe in the stuff

.
Oh, well.

.
(Fiona Apple)

.

.