Carry
© Alicia, March 3, 2002

She'll blame you for her problems
She'll say you made her cry
She'll call on you to take responsibility
and never admit it's all a lie

Someone loves her so he'll keep the peace
She was raised that way too long
His father was like her too
There's just no getting along

You're reaping a bitter harvest, Carry
No man's perfect with your problems added to his own
Someday you'll tell your life's story-
and say No choices were my own

Through life and death full of resentment
There's lots to be unhappy about
So little she should take personally
But Carry's playing a game of her own

She's hurting herself so viciously
She's a victim everywhere she goes
She collects pity like seashells
She mourns herself, writing grief in a book


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