Take the blame, take the blame.
That's why she always apologizes.
For things she did, for things she didn't.
It's easier if everyone has one target.
So, she thinks, why not her?
The words can't break what's already broken.
The words won't be different from what she thinks.
Take the blame, take the blame.
They tell her, it's alright.
Never do they tell her to stop apologizing.
They tell her it's not her fault.
Never said to stop apologizing.
Some hit her, sometimes because they are mad,
sometimes to make her cry.
So, she thinks, that's why I'm here.
Take the blame, take the blame.
One night, sitting on her bed,
she apologized for what she was about to do.
Taking the bottle, she took them one by one.
I don't want to take the blame anymore, she thinks,
I'm sorry.
No one saw this coming.
Even as her bruises showed on her pale skin.
The cuts on her wrist dark red with dried blood.
Take the blame, take the blame.
As the doctors tried to keep her alive,
she knew they would loose this battle.
Her parents cried. Her friends cried.
They said that she was stupid for doing it.
They said she was selfish.
But none ever bothered to find the truth.
Take the blame, take the blame.
That's what it said on her grave.
The only who always apologized.
They surrounded it, flowers in their hands.
None knew why she would do this.
They forgot about the bruises, the cuts.
They blamed her.
Take the blame, take the blame.
That was the one thing they would never do.
After all, they had her for that, didn't they?
Something's missing and I can't see it... kind of sets me off a bit.
That's why she always apologizes.
For things she did, for things she didn't.
It's easier if everyone has one target.
So, she thinks, why not her?
The words can't break what's already broken.
The words won't be different from what she thinks.
Take the blame, take the blame.
They tell her, it's alright.
Never do they tell her to stop apologizing.
They tell her it's not her fault.
Never said to stop apologizing.
Some hit her, sometimes because they are mad,
sometimes to make her cry.
So, she thinks, that's why I'm here.
Take the blame, take the blame.
One night, sitting on her bed,
she apologized for what she was about to do.
Taking the bottle, she took them one by one.
I don't want to take the blame anymore, she thinks,
I'm sorry.
No one saw this coming.
Even as her bruises showed on her pale skin.
The cuts on her wrist dark red with dried blood.
Take the blame, take the blame.
As the doctors tried to keep her alive,
she knew they would loose this battle.
Her parents cried. Her friends cried.
They said that she was stupid for doing it.
They said she was selfish.
But none ever bothered to find the truth.
Take the blame, take the blame.
That's what it said on her grave.
The only who always apologized.
They surrounded it, flowers in their hands.
None knew why she would do this.
They forgot about the bruises, the cuts.
They blamed her.
Take the blame, take the blame.
That was the one thing they would never do.
After all, they had her for that, didn't they?
Something's missing and I can't see it... kind of sets me off a bit.
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