her footsteps on the stairs
mean a new assault is coming
batten down the hatches
(I lock my door though it won't block her out)
bring your low blows to the ready,
(they make her cry but she walks away)
hide your secrets, but let her have a half-truth
('cause god knows I've got enough to go around)
just so she'll think she's won.
(though I can't let her and I haven't a reason why)
it's a neverending war
(and oh, these battles wear me out)
there's casualties on every side
(mummy dearest, if only you knew how you make it worse)
she always catches me by surprise
(whoever said you can't stumble on the truth had no idea)
even though I should expect it by now.
(how do you expect things like this?)
and I always think I'm doing better
(at least I put on a great show)
until she comes to call
(reminding me of my faults again, I just want to forget)
and she thinks I'm going to hang myself
(a bit late, aren't we? ask me three months ago)
which isn't the case at all.
(Remember, I'm the queen of half-truths)
so I'll prepare myself for another night
(and hey, I don't enjoy this either)
so I'll prepare myself for another fight.
(And the worst part is, I know she just cares.)