When your father chooses the booze
When your mother chooses the siblings
When your friends choose their Beaver Cleaver lives
Every boy/man you've been with has left
you for something better
And you're doing you're damnedest not to end up bitter
Yet every night you cry yourself dry
Pushing away those thoughts, those desires to die
It's hard to think out of the box
This box that's been your home for more
than a decade
It's warm with it's insulation of insecurities
When your father chooses his new wife
When your mother chooses you to blame
When your friends choose their delusions
Now it's easier to see why you don't choose
Letting others make all decisions, as if
their choices mattered more than yours
You're not asserting yourself, not paddling
against the current
You're getting pulled under and wondering why