mother, mother,
don’t you know i’m in here?
mother, mother,
don’t you want me any more?

you say you want me
you chose to have me
why do you torment me so?

i was planned for after all
(to patch a failing marriage)
though you seem distant from my father
(but planned for nonetheless)
and now you fight me with your addiction
(as you second guess my life)

you drink away your sorrows,
filling my liver with liquid poison
perhaps unaware
perhaps not caring
what you could do to me.

my brain is like a sponge.
it soaks up everything you give me.
but unlike a sponge,
i cannot wring it out
and make it clean again,
no matter how hard i try.

and now i must fight
the battle of your addiction
for the rest of my life,
because you could not
bring yourself under control
when i needed you the most.