when will this end?
I see my morals bend
when is the day
where I can run away?

oh the pain of my soul
these cries I can't control
you remind me of a witch
who's trying to curse and call me a snitch

what have I done to you,
to make you want me to look so blue?
why are you trying so hard,
to do anything to rip my heart apart?

I stand on this battleground
waiting for the truth to be found
by those you've deceived
and on that day I'll become relieved

don't expect me to cry
no I am not a small-fry
I may not be tall
but those who get hurt can be the strongest of all