Nutshell
We chase misprinted liesWe face the path of timeAnd yet I fightAnd yet I fightThis battle all aloneNo one to cry toNo place to call home
Oooh...Oooh...Oooh...Oooh...
My gift of self is rapedMy privacy is rakedAnd yet I findAnd yet I findRepeating in my headIf I can't be my ownI'd feel better dead
Oooh...Oooh...Oooh...Oooh...