you see the thing is: I'm learning to think for myself
look past the television screens in your eyes; the radio static on your lips
that says "this is truth" and dispatches it across the hungry nation like cans of baked beans
but I've got no appetite for being fucked with/
...seventeen, now.
that's not too little, is it? not too young?
got the scars and the bruises from when i fell and you didn't catch me
so don't you say you can't reach your hands across continents, no,
don't you say the distance'll break your bones.
so here's the thing:
i'll take consequence like a bullet to the brain
i'll take regret like i married it.
this is me running out of the back door in a gypsy skirt and loud lipstick
punch-drunk on life
dare you to sober me up
i dare you
i dare you
i dare.
you?