Push me around and take me for granted.
Broken and bound in your wake, and I'm daunted.
I cover the bruises with a smile on my face.
Lover, I didn't choose this but if I run will you give chase?
Running away; is it gonna change anything?
Running away; I'm thinking of running away (again).
It's not hard to see that what we have is deteriorating.
It's fear and not love that threatens to keep my heart racing.
I've gone and I've worked myself into this fever pitch.
Lover, this is the last time you'll hurt me and call me a bitch.
Uncover the bruises so everyone can see.
No, I didn't choose this; and now I choose to break free.