Da piccoli, quando nessuno ci protegge, a volte ci inventiamo qualcuno che lo faccia. "Better" parla di quella parte di sé che ci ha salvato, e che ha bisogno di noi feriti per continuare a esistere. Guarire significa lasciarla andare. ------ They made me little. You made me tea. Cried so quietly. You heard me. Wiped their shoes on my clean dress. You went downstairs. Made a mess. My lovely girl. Your awful hands. No need to ask. You understand. You make it better. Make it stop. Love me, love me until I’m not. Keep me little. Keep me sore. What would you need me for if I got better? Learned to laugh when they were cruel. Always a chair pulled out for you. You put their laughter back in their throats. Then came to bed in your wet coat. My lovely girl. Come lie down. Let me wash your hands. Don’t make a sound. You make it better. Make it stop. Love me, love me until I’m not. Keep me little. Keep me sore. What would you need me for if I got better? Before the mirror. Your turn to speak. The glass stays dry. A tear on our cheek. Time to leave. Your feet stay still. Waiting for mine. They always will. You make it better. Make it stop. Wearing my nightdress. Watching the clock. Keep me little. Keep me sore. Who would open up the door if I got better? You made me tea. Left it to cool. Nobody knows me quite like you.
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