You get angry and sad,
complain that I'm not
the perfect daughter,
all hope must be lost.
I don't have a clean bedroom,
I don't always jump
to fix things for you
when you're in a slump.
I stay home too much,
but you don't like it when I go out.
So how am I supposed to win?
You keep knocking me down.
But before you get angry,
remember I bailed you out.
For all of my losses,
you owe me money now.
I don't want to lord it over them but they make it so hard to get along, when I've given them so much, I just wish they'd cut me slack.
its sad how the tables have turned