Swaying softly, streetlights glowing through my windows
Trying on each dress I bought for you
Do I look pretty
When I ask you to hit me?

Hands like barbed wire
Wrapped around my throat, making me cry like
I told you l wanted in the car, on the long drive home
Baby, we're alone now
Sunday morning, everything hurts except for you
Except for you

And I like thinking I'm no different from you
Different from you
Different from you
When I go home at night, I think about the ways that I can get out
Of the hold you've got me in
Of the hold you've got me in
Of the hold you've got me in

Make it through the
Make it through the year