I've got your back.
I'm an enmity
Each stab of yours
Only lowers my standards;
You can't trust a kid
To mind their manners.
Until I found my standards
Couldn't go any lower.
The thermometer couldn't measure
The sheer coldness of your shoulder.
Your rain turns into sleet
Each time you protest my parade
By singing along to hate speech
And calling it a serenade.
You'll still find in me forgiveness;
You'll only lack a lot of trust.
I believe in endless second chances
To break the chains of the unjust.