Many Forms of Manipulation

Baby, this trash is ours to hide Concealed within the privacy of our knowledge Ours I tell you, not for common eyes to see A state of disharmony it may be, but it works for us How dare you attempt to embarrass me? This is your trash and I am doing you a favor Your promiscuous nature puts mother to shame Ashamed, your head should never reach the position of up Your trash, soon to be revealed to the world I thought you'd see it my way