Way to kick me when I'm down.
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Way to get me when I can't possibly take anymore.
You know the burdens that lay at my shoulder
And still you wound me the way you do.
I forgot, it's always me, never you.
Does it get tiresome always being the saint?
I know always being the sinner is old indeed.
Will I ever be beautiful in your eyes?
Do I only look pretty to you with the gleam of new?
It seems that the second the novelty wears off I am back to
The thorn in your side.
I should have quit you a thousand times over.
Will this be the time I do?