Fine, you caught me, with my walls down, crying. So tell me do you feel good about yourself? Standing there watching me fall, for the first time. No, not the first time, just the first time somebody else caught me. Do you feel good about yourself, seeing me fall apart and it all because of you? Because you wanted to prove that I was no better then you. Because you couldn't stand to see me stand tall. So tall that nothing could bring me down. Nothing until you came along. Until you offered me a your hand only to pull me from my stand. So fine you caught me. Do you feel the satisfaction you thought you would feel?