how as soon as I walk through that door
I'm transformed into Cinderella
before she got her title and crown.
You're the wicked stepmother, cold-hearted and bitter,
always riding around all hoity-toity,
doting on your loathsome daughter,
who needs to paint her face with cosmetics to make herself feel beautiful.
I'll be gang-banged, a two-on-one battle,
how's that fair?
You must have amnesia, not knowing who I am,
mistaking me for a slave
the way you snap your commands in my direction.
They can't possibly be meant for me.
Why don't you call upon the magic men who live in the sky
to do your fucking housework?
What were their names again?
Jesus and God?
They want you to be happy right?
Cinderelly Cinderelly you'll call on and on.
I'm not your slave
I'm not your house maid
I'm your daughter,
Who happens to be your daughter.