I told you it was him.
I went to ****** therapy.

I told you it was school.
You let me leave.

But what I never said was that it was dad.
And the way he drinks too much.

And I never said it was you.
And me worrying about your illness.

But it's this house.
That's what drives me insane.

Because him without a bottle
And you and your broken brain..

It just doesn't work.

So I have to pretend I'm better.
Pretend I don't hurt anymore.

Because blaming him and school

Was so much easier than blaming dad and you...