In the rites of passage
I did partake,
but to say that I'm responsible
would be a mistake.
What do I have to do
to prove myself to you?
In a manner of speaking,
you've taken all the finest pieces
and that doesn't leave me much
to pick and choose.
Now I'll have to be satisfied
with what little remains.
You condemn me for
the things that I say,
but they don't seem to affect you
at all anyway.
Why can't you let it be?
I don't suppose that you'll ever see
exactly what makes me
do all the things that I do.
And believe me when a say
I have my reasons,
I have only tried to utilize
what little remains.
Well, you expect so much
and I accept so little.
You're at war with yourself
and I'm stuck in the middle of it all.
Though you pressure me,
I will not give in.
You can yell and scream
and say I have spread myself too thin.
Wait a minute before you shout.
Do you know who you're talking about?
Are you referring to me
or is it yourself that you can't deal with?
Do I stimulate a memory
too close to home or could it be
that I'm becoming what you used to be?
I will leave no scars,
no marks or no stains.
I will try to make the best of it,
what little remains.