You've lived your whole life in this role Father checked out prematurely, mother drank away her soul You became the whipping boy for an angry, bitter man When you see this much this young you learn to cope as best youcan The trick's to look remorseful, but never shoulder any blame Condition their responses, that's the way to play the game Crocodile tears stream from your eyes Shoot an anguished look up at the sky Then it's arms outstretched, and a southbound nose Your defensive stance Your martyr's pose It's now your nature, it fits you like a second skin You adopt your tortured posture when you feel their Patiencewearing thin Tell me how much alienation How much bitterness have you tasted How many years were wasted trying to turn dead roses red You typecast yourself in this role - your martyr's pose