it’s another day at school
and he’s just walking out the door
got his rucksack on his back
and his feet dragging on the floor
always late for when he’s questioned
he can’t think of what to say
hides the bruises from the teachers
hoping that they go away
even though his mom and dad
they both got problems of their own
caught a catch at 22
but he’d still rather be at home
cries himself to sleep and prays
when he wakes up things might have changed
but everything’s still the same
but didn’t you say
you always said that i should speak up hmm
but it seems like all the things
you said to me before meant nothing at all
because
i keep telling you that johnny’s hitting me
that’s why i’m late for school
（but you never listen）
instead you always seem to end up blaming me
for things i didn’t do
（for what it’s worth）
i didn’t even want to tell you anything
in case it made things worse
（just so you know）
ev