The subject on which had not interested me
This day, instead of dreaming of wonderland
I spent my time wondering how a person who only wished to do right
Could act so unjustly and so cruel as I did
And I thought what horror it was that, with my integrity and consciousness,
I could see no further than the love in front of me
I wish I had been able to look to a distance and see how what I call love was occurring
And still, they like me, they respect me, they pity me; poor me
Yes, sometimes I am the worst;
I shed tears I have no right to shed; I tell lies I have no right to tell
And they still feel for me; they still hurt for me
How dare they pity me