I don't like to be called "bitch"
It always shatters something
in my heart
Like an old wound
that keeps breaking
But can never heal properly
Now bent and mangled
Beyond recognition
It does something else too
My heels dig a little deeper into the ground
And the voice in my head says
"Bitch? Oh you can give them a bitch.
They ain't seen nothin' yet
You are a master of words,
And your tongue is your sword.
You know shit about them
That they don't even know
If you dig down deep enough
You can cut their soul.
Who'll be the bitch then?"
Still me.
