Indian Giver Songtext
von Ubasute

You have me frequently checking the front desk to see if your letter came through
"Sorry mister, maybe tomorrow?"
All that energy spent pacing up and down the hall, checking my watch, wondering why I Let you have such a stranglehold on me
We can dine in that banquet together, make fake smiles at our guests
Thanking your host for being a part of this
We toast to his rise, we pray for his fall We get born into this role, life created without consent
And I don′t know who he is but I still have that rush of anger at the site of his name
That bastard son that came to be the man I am today harbors all that resentment
My mother raised me on disappointment
My father raised me to reject affection

I can lie here, open myself and be ignored for I am no special, just a child grown into This, a man of burden