Besedila: Fiona Apple. Limp.

You wanna make me sick
You wanna lick my wounds
Don't you, baby?

You want the badge of honour when you save my hide
But you're the one in the way of the day of doom, baby
If you need my shame to reclaim your pride

And when I think of it, my fingers turn to fists
I never did anything to you, man
But no matter what I try
You'll beat me with your bitter lies
So call me crazy, hold me down
Make me cry, get off now, baby
It won't be long 'till you'll be
Lying limp in your own hand

You feed the beast I have within me
You wave the red flag, baby you make it run run run
Standing on the sidelines, waving and grinning
You fondle my trigger, then you blame my gun

And when I think of it, my fingers turn to fists
I never did anything to you, man
But no matter what I try
You'll beat me with your bitter lies
So call me crazy, hold me down
Make me cry, get off now, baby
It won't be long till you'll be
Lying limp in your own hand

And when I think of it, my fingers turn to fists
I never did anything to you, man
But no matter what I try
You'll beat me with your bitter lies
So call me crazy, hold me down
Make me cry, get off now, baby
It won't be long till you'll be
Lying limp in your own hand