Sitting on the shelf I wait until I'm wanted.
But til then I'll sit still and haunted.

One eye missing and my curly hair falling out
I can see now that there is no doubt.

All you ever wanted was something to hold when you felt alone in the night
then to cast out again in the morning, filled with fright.

You like power too much, everything must be under your control
but can't you see your power taking it's toll?

Did I do something wrong? Did I not play "right?"
Why must you now fill me with fright?

Threats and ***** looks are your weapons of choice
leaving me  now unable to use my voice.

I will never understand if you love or if you hate,
but I refuse to sit here and wait.