I’m blessed. I am a witch and I float above everyone who would do harm on me. They crane their necks. They call me a bitch for using my powers at a party. I don’t wanna spend another night in jail for possessing the skills which I learned to defend myself.
What if I say I’m one in five grown accustomed to violence? Can I levitate past it? On the ground, my tongue’s too honest. I don’t wanna love you, I don’t wanna love you. I don’t wanna spend another night in jail for hiding the truth, which I did to defend myself. I don’t wanna love you, I don’t wanna love you, I don’t wanna love you…
Oh, I wanted to be in the portrait of love but there’s food in your teeth. Oh, I wanted to be an example of love but my spell’s getting weak! Oh, now I can see that he won’t stop running—won’t stop running from me.
But I’m not a mind reader, nor still the coyote ripping at your throat. I’m not the one you feel you owe your sorries to. Along the wilted heather, he shook me by the feather in my cloak. It’s now or it’s for never even if you’re sorry—sorry as a snake, as a snake can be.
I’m blessed with perfect pitch. I waste it on songs that you never even heard of. I’m not gonna spend another night in jail. I know I’ll survive and I don’t need your belief or your help. No, I don’t need your belief or your help.
I wanted to be in the portrait of love, but you’re running from me.