my old enemy.

anger fuels these words

where spite, my old enemy,

burned this heart again

I try, and try, and try

to forgive.

but I can see papa's face, still,

and hear the words you said,

I was there, for all the years you pretended we weren't.

I try, and try, and try

to forgive.

but I can see papa's face, still,

and hear the tears in the dark,

I was there, for all the years you weren't.

anger fuels these words: get out, stay out, and don't come again

because I don't need to pretend that you were ever a friend.

compassion pulls them back in before they are loosed,

because spite, you see, it eats at you,

don't think I can't see, the damage it's caused,

you may spit venom at me, but it's you that it's harmed

and when you come round, all sugary sweet,

and pretend that you're somehow interested in me

I can see through your guise just as easily,

but still

I try, and try, and try

to forgive.

You may be blood, but that's running thin

and until you stop letting your poison flow,

here's one more thing you ought to know:

spite, my old enemy, he's a mean motherfucker,

and little girl, he's just eatin you up.