Less Like You
I don't own the song or the band. I don't own these characters Giovanni and Madam Boss. I wrote this -- or rather, typed it -- because this song reminds me of Giovanni and the really strained relationship between him and his mother.
Tired of being what you want me to be, Feeling so faithless, lost under the surface, Don't know what you're expecting of me, Put under the pressure Of walking in your shoes
Have you ever thought about whether or not I really wanted to do what you made me into? Of course not. You're not like that, Madam. Oh, see how I don't even call you my own mother? I don't feel like your real son; rather alienated by all these odd feelings of . . . what's that word . . . dislike? You were forever pushing me under a raging sea of distrust. I could never be right in your eyes. So why would I be right for this?
I've become so numb I can't feel you there I've become so tight so much more aware I'm becoming this, all I want to do Is be more like me and be less like you
I've decided just to keep quiet, a stone in mood yet alive because of my flesh and blood. Flesh and blood you probably wouldn't mind seeing destroyed just as long as it meant I was off your back. But then you wouldn't have any 'heir' to your throne of being Boss when you're dead. But you wouldn't care, as long as the business flourished under you. I don't want to be this. You are forcing me into a sculpture of ruptured pride, forced to follow in your footsteps instead of being free to mould into what I want to be. I also don't want to be like you because of the way you act. I may not have kids (I hope not, truly) but if I do by some mistake I hope I don't treat them like you did me.
Can't you see that you're smothering me Holding too tightly, afraid to lose control Everything that you thought I would be Is falling apart right in front of you
As your demise nears you crush me further, molding me more forcibly and roughly into a man who would make well of your business. But I realise your insecurity is having me break away, then you won't have an heir and all your money will be lost. Cry me a river, build a bridge, and get over it. Well, I learned to be rebellious and reform the mould you have on me, and I will do whatever it takes to get away from your power-hungry tyranny.
I've become so numb I can't feel you there I've become so tight so much more aware I'm becoming this, all I want to do Is be more like me and be less like you
You may mould my destiny but I will never do it willingly. How can I when you force me to become cold and bitter-hearted just like you? Once you are gone, I only hope it will not be too late to turn back. And once you are not here anymore, you can't make me come back to this bitter heart.
And I know I may end up failing too But I know you were just like me With someone disappointed in you
Meanwhile I must wait. But now that I sit here and think about all this, how did you get this way? How different my life would have been if you had been normal. But you only could have gotten this way, this brutal. by someone treating you the same way. Now I know you were just like me when you were young and stupid. How does it feel? But now your heart is too hard to feel anything but power and brutality. So I can't say I feel any sympathy.
I don't own the song or the band. I don't own these characters Giovanni and Madam Boss. I wrote this -- or rather, typed it -- because this song reminds me of Giovanni and the really strained relationship between him and his mother.
Tired of being what you want me to be, Feeling so faithless, lost under the surface, Don't know what you're expecting of me, Put under the pressure Of walking in your shoes
Have you ever thought about whether or not I really wanted to do what you made me into? Of course not. You're not like that, Madam. Oh, see how I don't even call you my own mother? I don't feel like your real son; rather alienated by all these odd feelings of . . . what's that word . . . dislike? You were forever pushing me under a raging sea of distrust. I could never be right in your eyes. So why would I be right for this?
I've become so numb I can't feel you there I've become so tight so much more aware I'm becoming this, all I want to do Is be more like me and be less like you
I've decided just to keep quiet, a stone in mood yet alive because of my flesh and blood. Flesh and blood you probably wouldn't mind seeing destroyed just as long as it meant I was off your back. But then you wouldn't have any 'heir' to your throne of being Boss when you're dead. But you wouldn't care, as long as the business flourished under you. I don't want to be this. You are forcing me into a sculpture of ruptured pride, forced to follow in your footsteps instead of being free to mould into what I want to be. I also don't want to be like you because of the way you act. I may not have kids (I hope not, truly) but if I do by some mistake I hope I don't treat them like you did me.
Can't you see that you're smothering me Holding too tightly, afraid to lose control Everything that you thought I would be Is falling apart right in front of you
As your demise nears you crush me further, molding me more forcibly and roughly into a man who would make well of your business. But I realise your insecurity is having me break away, then you won't have an heir and all your money will be lost. Cry me a river, build a bridge, and get over it. Well, I learned to be rebellious and reform the mould you have on me, and I will do whatever it takes to get away from your power-hungry tyranny.
I've become so numb I can't feel you there I've become so tight so much more aware I'm becoming this, all I want to do Is be more like me and be less like you
You may mould my destiny but I will never do it willingly. How can I when you force me to become cold and bitter-hearted just like you? Once you are gone, I only hope it will not be too late to turn back. And once you are not here anymore, you can't make me come back to this bitter heart.
And I know I may end up failing too But I know you were just like me With someone disappointed in you
Meanwhile I must wait. But now that I sit here and think about all this, how did you get this way? How different my life would have been if you had been normal. But you only could have gotten this way, this brutal. by someone treating you the same way. Now I know you were just like me when you were young and stupid. How does it feel? But now your heart is too hard to feel anything but power and brutality. So I can't say I feel any sympathy.
