You hand me the dice with a painted smile
And point to the board that stretches for miles
You talk of the winners, the glitter, the fame
You just say, “Darling, go play the game”
But every move feels like a debt to be paid
In the theater of choices that others have made
So, I’ll play the game with a heart made of stone
In a house that you built, but it never feels home
I’ll move all my pieces the way that you said
While the fire in my soul is quietly dead
Yeah, I’ll play your game
But don’t you see the cost?