[Intro] You made the rules. I learned the rules. I played by the rules. Then you changed them. [Verse 1] You hold the jurisdiction over everything I possess, So every promise comes with an invisible asterisk, I negotiate in good faith, you negotiate from authority, Then redefine the terms and call it parental propriety. You say, “That's the deal.” I say, “We agreed.” You say, “Well, I'm the adult.” And suddenly Agreement has become a decorative concept. I completed my obligations, I fulfilled my end, Then you alter the conditions And expect me to pretend That the original arrangement Was merely my interpretation, That your unilateral revision Requires no explanation. [Chorus] Adult cruelty— You can change the deal whenever you please. Move the goalposts, change the rules, Then blame me when I disagree. Adult cruelty— Power disguised as certainty. You don't have to keep your promises When you hold the authority. [Verse 2] I don't object to responsibility, I object to asymmetry, Where your word becomes immutable And mine becomes negotiable instantly. You can say, “I never said that.” And what am I supposed to do? Produce a signed contract From a conversation I had with you? You possess the final veto, The ultimate arbitration, Every disagreement ending With the same declaration: “Because I said so.” Four words with extraordinary jurisdiction, A verbal guillotine terminating discussion, No appeal, no jury, no constitutional protection, Just hierarchy masquerading as correction. And maybe you're technically entitled To make the final call. But don't confuse having power With being right at all. [Chorus] Adult cruelty— You can change the deal whenever you please. Move the goalposts, change the rules, Then blame me when I disagree. Adult cruelty— Power disguised as certainty. You don't have to keep your promises When you hold the authority. [Verse 3] I learn the pattern: Promise. Agreement. Expectation. Completion. Then— Revision. A new condition appears After I've already paid the admission. And I'm expected to adapt With instantaneous compliance, As though changing the contract Doesn't invalidate reliance. You call it discipline. I call it asymmetrical negotiation. You call it parenting. I call it unilateral legislation. Maybe I'm still dependent, Maybe you're still responsible, But dependency shouldn't mean Every promise is disposable. Because someday I'll have autonomy, And I'll remember what you taught me: Not merely how to follow rules— But how it feels When someone with power Can rewrite them underneath me. [Bridge] Don't tell me, “You should be grateful.” Don't tell me, “I'm doing this for you.” Just admit the truth: You have the power To change the deal. And I have the power Only to object. [Final Chorus] Adult cruelty— You can change the deal whenever you please. Move the goalposts, change the rules, Then call my protest disrespectful speech. Adult cruelty— One side writes the policy. You call it “parental authority.” I call it— Power without reciprocity. You made the rules. I learned the rules. I played by the rules. Then you changed them. And somehow— I'm the problem For noticing.
