Over and over
I argue this and that.
Maybe not the little things,
Maybe just a few.
Sometimes out loud,
others deep inside.
A constant guilt trip,
never smart enough--
never fast enough--
never thin enough--
never there enough--
never good enough...
Well I can yell,
as loud as my lungs will let me,
from the top of this city,
where I pour in my pity,
to the one with the knife that cuts the deepest,
with a sharpness that makes me feel the cheapest,
ENOUGH!