Go on, rub my face in the dirt.
Make me panic from across the table
And say things to make me hurt.
You want me to run away with you,
Away from the life I've built for seven years,
Away from my new family and love with eyes so blue.
I know you don't mean to pressure me,
But you are, and you aren't being subtle.
Do I have to beg on my hands and knees?
I have a reason to stay now,
Don't you get it?
Quit dismissing my dreams and stomping them into the ground.
So you'll have to excuse me from the table, Dad and Mom.
I'll be right back, dears.
I need to go cry in the bathroom stall.
