red

He's just like my father when he makes me laugh

He's just like my mother and cooks things from scratch

He's near when he's happy, unreachable when he gets mad

And I'm just like a child when I cry on the floor

I'll hold what I can til I can't hold no more

My hands used to pray, now they're fists banging on the back door

I used to think it'd be easier when I get older

I swear it gets messier, harder to bear

Stone in my chest from the years of exposure

To whether I care

I care too much

If I can be perfect then no one gets hurt

If I can make amends then nothing gets worse

What about my wounds, am I s'posed to heal those myself?

Psychological pain still bleeds red

He raises his voice and reminds me of dad

I choose my silence, did our mothers teach that?

I'm one to talk, I've got baggage I never unpacked

I've tried to move forward but I moved for show

I rushed all my life, now my healing is slow

I say I'm all grown, but I shift blame when I do what I'm told

I used to think it'd be easier when I get older

I swear it gets messier, harder to bear

Stone in my chest from the years of exposure

To whether I care

I care too much

If I can be perfect then no one gets hurt

If I can make amends then nothing gets worse

What about my wounds, am I s'posed to heal those myself?

Psychological pain still bleeds red

Why do I gotta heal things myself?

I'm tired

If I can be perfect then no one gets hurt

If I can make amends then nothing gets worse

What about your wounds am I supposed to heal those myself?

Psychological pain still bleeds red