Pride
I am the box of tissues in the front pew
I am there for you
When your daughter gives her hand to a man
I am the dusty book on your mantle
That you can't read because you can't handle the truth
Oh no it's true

I sit and I wait for you
I wait for when I can be of use

I am the pendant around your neck
Or the ink upon your chest
That you once wanted to show now you dont
I am the photo in it's frame
I am the portrait that you used to hang
I have been replaced

I sit and I wait for you
I wait for when I can be of use
I lay and grow old for you
While you wish you could be brand new
Do you close your еyes?
Don't hurt my pride