Kiss the boys as they walk by, call me their baby.
But little do they know, I'm just a maybe.
Maybe my baby will be the one to leave me sore.
Maybe my baby will settle the score.

I don't want to be the filler if the void is solely yours
I don't want to be your glass of single malt whiskey
Hidden in the bottom drawer
I don't want to be the bandage if the wound is not mine
I don't want to be adored for what I merely represent to you
I don't want to be to be your baby-sitter
You're a very big boy now
I don't want to be you mother
I didn't carry you in my womb for nine months

you see it's too much to ask for and I'm not the doctor
I don't want to be the sweeper of the eggshells that you walk upon
I don't want to be your other half I believe that 1 and 1 make 2
I don't want to be you food or the light from the fridge on your face at midnight
Hey what are you hungry for?
I don't want to be the glue that holds your pieces together
I don't want to be you idol
See this pedestal is high and I'm afraid of heights
I don't want to be responsible for your fractured heart and its wounded beat
I don't want to be a substitute for the smoke you've been inhaling