(Abbruzzese, Ament, Gossard, McCready, Vedder)

Alone, listless
Breakfast table in an otherwise empty room
Young girl, violence
Center of her own attention
The mother reads aloud, child tries to understand it
Tries to make her proud
The shades go down, it’s in her head
Painted room, can’t deny there’s something wrong

Don’t call me daughter, not fit to
The picture kept will remind me
Don’t call me daughter, not fit to
The picture kept will remind me
Don’t call me

She holds the hand that holds her down
She will rise above

Let it go

Let it go

Can’t hold it back anymore

Let it go

Let it go

Turn away and slam the door

I don’t care what they’re gonna say

It’s ok, it’s ok