Like Cellophane

You know I thought about it, but did I convince you I was strong enough?
Strong enough to control myself, smart enough to know better.

I tell you I’ve stopped, that I don’t do it anymore; but I do.
But you can see right through me; like cellophane.

If I ever did it, you’d understand why.
‘I won’t do it, I can’t’, I tell you – I tell myself every day.

What would you do if it happened?
If my eyes fluttered shut for the last time?
I blame him, but it’s not his fault; it’s mine.