Hey Stockholm

Stockholm syndrome, that’s what they call it, love the abuser, that type of shit.

You’re like an asteroid on my shoulder, holding me down, like a boulder in the water, making me drown.

You like breathing in smoke, toxic to breathe, making me choke, til you leave.

Now months go by, we fight and I cry, I’m willful inside, now all my feelings I’ll hide.

Stockholm syndrome, that’s what they call it, love the abuser, that type of shit.

Every word you say, I tend to believe, it was always my fault, I guess I was naive.

You cheat 5 times, I don’t cheat at all, instead I forgive you, not sure what I saw.

Stockholm syndrome, that’s what they call it, love the abuser, that type of shit.

I went one day, not as bad as it sounds, but the answer I got, was a shove to the ground. You got locked up, with no contact, I can’t even believe, that I had removed that.

Stockholm syndrome, that’s what they call it, love the abuser, that type of shit. I said it’s Stockholm syndrome… I said it’s Stockholm syndrome…. As a matter of fact.