The Music Video I Lack The Skill To Make

I wanted to make a music video for this song, but I have no idea how to animate and don't draw well enough to do it anyway, so instead I'll do what I'm better at - paint a picture with words.

Forgive, sounds good,
Forget, I'm not sure I could
They say time heals everything, but I'm still waiting

I'm sitting on the radiator in the Arts building at university, waiting for my class to start, and my mind travels back. I remember being a child, wearing a backpack, walking through the front doors of my school.

I'm through with doubt
There's nothing left for me to figure out
I've paid a price, and I'll keep paying it

Cut to a visual depiction of my heart, with a number of old, healed scars all over it. The image fades and you see it with a single, open wound.

I'm not ready to make nice
I'm not ready to back down
I'm still mad as hell
And I don't have time to go 'round and 'round and 'round
It's too late to make it right
Probably wouldn't if I could
'Cause I'm mad as hell,
Can't bring myself to do what it is you think I should

Cut to myself as a child, crawling on the floor, washing my face like a cat. A teacher comes up and yanks me to my feet, yelling at me. I pull free and dive under a table. She reaches under and drags me out by my arm, kicking and screaming. Then cuts to my heart, with a new wound in it.

I know you said, can't you just get over it?
It turned my whole world around, and I kind of like it

I'm standing in front of a teacher lecturing me, I turn into a big circle and she tries to jam me into a square hole, getting enraged when I won't fit. She gives me a saw and tells me to cut myself down to the shape I need to be, but I throw the saw on the ground.

Made my bed and I sleep like a baby
With no regrets and I don't mind saying
It's a sad sad story when a mother will teach her
Daughter that she oughta hate a perfect stranger

A teacher screaming at me in front of an entire classroom of kids as they watch in shock. Later, in recess, several of them grab my backpack and throw it back and forth, keeping it away from me. I finally catch my backpack and get into a tug-of-war, and then hit the kid to make him let go. Next it cuts to me in the principal's office.

And how in the world can the words that I said
Send somebody so over the edge?
That they'd write me a letter
Saying that I better
Shut up and sing or my life will be over

My teacher goes to the principal and hands in some papers, then points to me. She leaves and is immediately replaced by another teacher. It cuts to me standing there, with an arrow pointing at me saying 'drove her teacher to an early retirement', standing at the Pearly Gates and getting turned away. The scene cuts to my heart with another wound in it.

I'm not ready to make nice
I'm not ready to back down
I'm still mad as hell
And I don't have time to go 'round and 'round and 'round
It's too late to make it right
Probably wouldn't if I could
'Cause I'm mad as hell,
Can't bring myself to do what it is you think I should

A math page with easy division problems. An example problem is already solved using long division. A teacher's hand draws out the long division half-square thingy and points to it. Ignoring it, I write the correct answer for problem #2 next to the problem. The teacher puts an X beside it and points again to the half-square thing. The words 'show your work' appear on the page. I grab the page of problems, crumple it up, and throw it away. Then the scene cuts to my heart with yet another new wound.

I'm not ready to make nice
I'm not ready to back down
I'm still mad as hell
And I don't have time to go 'round and 'round and 'round
It's too late to make it right
Probably wouldn't if I could
'Cause I'm mad as hell
Can't bring myself to do what it is you think I should
What it is you think I should

I stand there looking at God in His fluffy cloud heaven, and it pops out of existence. The scene cuts to me standing outside of church shaking my head to my family as they urge me inside, they nod acceptance and walk in without me. At school, a teacher tries to make me pray and when I yell at her she yells back awhile, then turns and prays with a pious-yet-condescending look. God pops in the room and stands before me, and I scowl at Him and turn away. Cut to my heart with a new wound.

Forgive, sounds good
Forget, I'm not sure I could
They say time heals everything
But I'm still waiting

Returns to adult-me sitting on the radiator. A girl in a motorized wheelchair approaches and my face lights up as I greet her. Placing a hand on one handle of her wheelchair, I follow her through the door to my class.