Aimless movement, gaining momentum.
A mind in a whirl of thoughts and feelings.
A sharp pain in my expressive heart as I here your familar words.
Can't you sit down, why don't you behave, why can't you just be good for a change?
Trying so hard I drive myself to distraction, worse than what already claims me.
I just can't do it, can't sit still, can't behave, must be bad.
There's nothing wrong with me that a good firm hand can't fix.
"He just needs some discipline, someone to take control." You tell my mother.
She looks like she's ready to cry, she want's to defend me even though she's been fighting with me all day.
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