Let's get raging drunk, forget I ever did this,
forget I ever agreed to go near your family again.
Let's pretend I'm good enough for one night,
let's see how much I can delude myself.
Everyone else gets a normal love life, not me,
I end up fighting through the shit until someone
thinks it's time for me to get thrown back down
into my lowly, scum-filled place.
Scum from the South, that's all I'll ever be to them.
Not good enough for you, not worthy of the love that
you've shown me, not even worth the scraps of food
from your high-class table.
You'd never guess I was your choice, nor would you
guess that I'm actually quite high-class myself.They
see me as the harlot who stole their darling boy, the
witch who twisted his mind and enchanted him.
Is this how Anne Boleyn felt when they came for her?
Did she feel trapped, alone, powerless, jealous of all
the simple love surrounding everyone but her? Or did
she stand and laugh in the faces of her tormentors?
One day your parents will pay for the misery they have
put me through. One day your sister will learn how it feels
to be bullied and be powerless to stop it, and one day I
will laugh at all of you as I dance above your heads.