The Process

Break the code of silence Forget your conscience And baby, you'll be fine Grab a book of matches, Half empty gas can And get these hands untied You made me who I am Blame it on the process, darling Draw my blood from the stone Sorry about the mix up, sweetie But this had to be said You made me who I am Lift your broken posture Reset your shoulder And plant you in the soil I recall the moment When I first struck and Your twisted limbs recoiled You made me who I am Blame it on the process, darling Draw my blood from the stone Sorry about the mix up, sweetie But this had to be said You made me who I am You think you've seen the worst of me Well, think again You made me who I am Your body slumps over that hole I dug for when You made me who I am You made me who I am Break the code of silence Forget your conscience And baby, you'll be fine Grab a book of matches, Half empty gas can And get these hands untied You made me who I am, oh Blame it on the process, darling Draw my blood from the stone Sorry about the mix up, sweetie But this had to be said You made me who I am You think you've seen the worst of me Well, think again You made me who I am Your body slumps over that hole I dug for when You made me who I am You made me who I am