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She made me admit I'm broken, I'm broken... |
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Shouldn't it after all that I preached, I still can not accept |
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that I'm not a fit and once that of course the snowball, |
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snowballing down my spine |
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draws a perfectly imperfect line. |
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Is it just the weight? Cuz the weight is what weighs me down again. |
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Or is it the scape? Goes over the clumsy friend |
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there to take all the blame for what's really happening. |
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This circle must come to an end. |
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And I've always liked that about me, that I know what I am fighting for. |
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And for this I'd go to war weapon in mind is my main skin, |
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swallowed on the only body part, |
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that should matter my heart. |
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The only way is to let go, get rid of all the fears, |
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of not being perfect. My goal seems perfectly clear |
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and terrified if I let go, I also lose myself, |
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and I don't wanna be somebody else. |
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And I've always liked that about me, that I know what I am fighting for. |
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And for this I'd go to war weapon in mind is my main skin, |
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swallowed on the only body part, |
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that should matter my heart. |
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And what if I've always been good enough in my skin, |
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good enough in my skin? |
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and what if I've always been good enough in my skin, |
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good enough in my skin? |
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and I've always liked that about me that I know what i am fighting for |
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and for this I'd go to war weapon in mind is my main skin |
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swallowed on the only body part |
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that should matter my heart |
