I go through phases of cleaning
And I mean cleaning everything
Your room, my room
The entire city
I could clean and clean
But still feel *****

I'm becoming OCD
Obsessive Compulsively Dicking around
What's gonna happen to me,
When he finally gets out?

It's not like I look in the mirror
and see something I don't want to see
But I can't help but feel just a little *****
Ever since he touched me
When I didn't wanna be
Touched

A three month sentence
For a life long pain
If it wasn't for my strength,
He wouldn't even know my name
He'll never know hers
               or hers
                    or hers
But I made sure he knows mine
I wonder if in just three months
He's had enough time
To remember my name
For the rest of his life
To remember my name
As I unconciously recite his
I wonder if he missed his kid
If he called his mom
Or if she called him

Twelve people sat in the jury that day
And I wonder how many of them
Truly believed that three months
Was enough time
To bring justice
To anyone
I wonder if even one of them
Would change their mind
If they heard what I had to say tonight
If they could hear me
I'd make sure they knew
I spent two years
Believing in a justice system that never came through
That I'll spend the rest of my life
Wondering, trying to be tough
Wishing I could finally get clean enough
And he got *three months