...

I am my fathers daughter

And I am my mothers son

I’m everything, I’m nothing

I’m the worst things that they’ve done

This misery isn’t even romantic

It feels all consuming and chronic

And if I sang a song about how it gets better

I couldn’t sing it any way but ironic

I think I’m broken

And when I say it I really mean it

Not in the way you pop a tire

But the way you could shred it to pieces