Door Is Your Hand

Picturing that you were dead's the only way to cope with my head

But it never lasted long, you'd never let me live with you gone

Crying in my baby's arms, she tells me she doesn't know how to shoot a gun

But if she did, I'd never have to think about you anymore

You come home mad again, it's always something I can never mend

You crack your medicine, you step towards me, and I start to defend

You hold me in your arms, and then you let me be

I wait for you to fall asleep, so I can sit comfortably

And you take what you want

And you slam the door in my face when I resist

You picture my head

Staying put while the door is your hand

Staying put while the door is your hand

Walking a few steps ahead, you bolt and leave me stranded in the dark

I find you finally, you say that I should've just kept up

I sigh, I lie, and I lie and say that I am fine

I wait for you to fall asleep, so I can cry comfortably

And you take what you want

Take what you want

And you slam the door in my face when I resist

You picture my head

Picture my head

Staying put while the door is your hand

Staying put while the door is your hand

And I wanted to hurt you back in a sit down whispered note

Tried to find the upper hand, so I could bend it until it broke

But there was nothing I could say that would grab you by the throat

Except that I am not afraid of you anymore

And you took what you wanted

And you slammed the door in my face when I resist

I picture your head

Picture your head

Rolling off into a dead end

Rolling off into a dead end

Rolling off into a dead end

Rolling off into a dead end