Meredith Brooks. "Bitch." Blurring the Edges, Capital, 1997.
Erin Vander Linden
I face the world today,
you're no good to me
and I know that, that won't change.
Try to fight you,
but you look at me like maybe
I won't know you're underneath,
head down to my feet.
Yesterday I tried.
You don't relinquish as the enemy inside,
I can't understand and I get so confused,
all I blame is you,
you're a little bit of everything all rolled into one.
I am sick, I'm a fighter,
you're my body's friendly fire.
I'm a victim of disease,
I do not feel ashamed.
I'm your slave, in my dreams,
you do not mean a thing,
you know you wouldn't want it any other way.
So you'll take what you can,
this may mean that I need
a helping hand.
I'm assured that you'll attack all my nerves,
that you'll go to extremes.
Tomorrow will always change
and today you bring the pain.
I am sick, you're under cover,
in my veins, in my stutter,
in my eyes, in my brain.
I do not feel ashamed.
You're my hell and I can scream
but that won't mean a thing,
you know you wouldn't want it any other way.
Just when I think
I've got you figured out,
the symptoms are already changing.
I think it's cruel you do what you do,
and keep on raiding me.
I am sick, yes I suffer,
I'm a person without buffers.
I'm a cripple with a cane.
I do not feel ashamed.
I'm a puppet, you're my strings,
I'm caught in between,
You know you wouldn't want it any other way.
I am sick with disease,
caught in uncertainty.
How you hurt and make me suffer
and my head's so full of clutter.
I am numb till you're revived
and set me alight,
You know I couldn't have it any other way.