Ashamed, ashamed—
Like I’m eight but I’m twenty-four.
Ashamed, ashamed,
Like the kid I was before.
Ashamed, ashamed,
Is this what you raised me for?
Ashamed once more.

You make me a little kid,
Just because you think you can.
I’ll always be that child,
That you torture again and again.
Make another joke,
Scream a bit louder,
Say how my brother always makes you prouder.

The same old words,
You’ve said them before—
You make me feel eight at twenty-four.
Say his name, his joy, his love,
Belittle me in front of those I adore.
Push me to the edge one step more,
Maybe I won’t make it to twenty-five,
When you make me feel eight at twenty-four.