Run Away Jay

Sanguine, giving me advice over drinks, over and over again
And it just kept going straight right over and over my head
And I would try to lie and hide to get over and over on them
"Why would you lie to your friend?"
I can't make everyone and myself happy, I'm so fucking over it
No mentions of where I am or where I'm going
Or who I'm seeing, or how I'm feeling

This isn't the last part, it's just the next
And what comes next is the ultimatum
Do I choose my love or my friend that hates them?

Don't @ me, and don't tag me
I don't wanna listen to your complaining
You run your fingers like you run your mouth
Shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up

Who's right? Who's wrong? Who's right? Who's wrong?
Who's right? No, Who's wrong?
Who's right? Who's wrong? Who's right, Who's wrong?
No, who's right?
Who's right? Who's wrong? Who's right? Who's wrong?
No, who's right?
Who's right? Who's wrong? Who's right? Who's wrong?
No, who's right? Who's wrong? Who's right?

And— and just when I think things can't get any worse
They always fucking do
I fucking hate you
You've ruined my life
I just want my iPod back
Things can't get worse
I'm calm, it's fine, it's okay, it's okay

Here comes my father
Hot and bothered and full of lager
I'm not your daughter
Every single piano, every man in my life
Music to my ears to hear you shake your spear at me
About religion, sex, and politics you don't know shit about
And how the color of my skin means I can't be depressed
The black boy better grab onto those bootstraps

The dry, wry encouragement of "roll up your sleeves" and
"Pick yourself up" gets exaggerated and emphasized
When they're used to fix my mental health

I'm not a leaky faucet, or a loose screw
I'm an inch away from you, face to face
And we still can't see eye to eye?

Now I'm on the bathroom floor with a chair to the door
The only thing keeping you from killing me
Banging, screaming, Gary Barbera commercials on the TV
"My father did it to me, that's just how I was raised"
"My mother did it to me, that's just how I was raised"
Abuse is always disguised as "that's how I was raised"

"Well, what are you, gay?" No, I just don't like sports
"Well, what are you, stupid?" No, I just don't understand math
"Well, what are you, weak?" No, I just don't want to fight
"What is wrong with you?" I don't know, I need you to help me