It’s always a fight
between him and me.
He makes it that way.
I wish that he would just let me be.
We could’ve been friends
if he’d given me a chance.
I gave him one.
It’s always a fight
between him and me.
Oh, but what a battle,
ongoing from day to day.
A taunt,
a teasing sneer,
a disgusted grimace,
are all that pass between us.
It’s always a fight
between him and me.
And as I still fight,
he jeers.
That’s how it goes,
from day to day.
It’s always a fight,
between him and me.
It’s no fight to him,
but it is to me.