American Tradition - Nicole Dollanganger

He wants to lift weights like a fighter

We put the medals on the wall

In a room of starving vultures

Gold trophies, he got 'em all

He wants to be just like his father

We play the knife game on the table

I bleed to death, it doesn’t matter

'Cause my baby, he’s still the winner

He holds me in his arms, it’s no good

Things don’t go like they should

He holds me in his arms, it’s no good

Things don’t go like they should

Sleep on the carpet through the night

We’re living off a TV dinner

Hanging me up by his gold chain

He used to be a hockey player

I used to be a figure skater

Cutting my leg with the blade

In the blue and red arena

Trying to pretend we’re the same

He holds me in his arms, it’s no good

Things don’t go like they should

He holds me in his arms, it’s no good

Things don’t go like they should