I had a fight with my father the other day
Nothing too different from the rest
But for some reason I cried and cried
And went to sleep in upset
I had a fight with him the other day
And an anger fell upon me red
But for some reason I simply fell silent
Cursing him, wishing him dead
That night I dreamt that I was beating him
To a bloody pulp
I heard him scream and I listened
And felt zero remorse
In my dream I bloodied him
With strength I've never had
But for some reason he kept on coming
Snide with spite and words gunning
back to mock me again
"You're weak, you're weak,
You're sad and angry and ill
And you'll never be enough for me
Even though I myself never will
And you used to have so much to do
So much to look forward to
You used to be my very last hope–
Now look at you,
Look at you."