You're bashing my head,
Because I cut my skin.
You're leaving me for dead,
Because I didn't let you in.

You're slicing me open,
But I do that to myself.
I am not a pretty picture
You can place upon your shelf.

Well, I'm sorry that I'm burning.
Well, I'm sorry that I died.
Well, I'm sorry that you think I will run
To you if you hold your arms open wide.

I know you think that you're helping,
But honestly, you're not.
I know you wanted a perfect daughter
I'm sorry I'm what you got.

Stop trying to bandage my wounds.
Just leave my cuts and gashes.
I know you want me to rise again,
But I'm better off as ashes.