I've changed, but stayed the same.
I took more than I gave.
I'm proud, yet I'm ashamed.
I guess I'm used to pain.
Saw brighter days through rain.
Do you know the truth?
Are mental scars abuse?
So sick of being used.
I guess I'm living proof.
Im lost, and don't know where you are. But then I look up towards the stars.
Theres reasons why we cannot speak. If time stood still I wouldn't blink.
So far we've come, but far along. Your voice still sings, like a sad song.
Yet here I am, I've come and gone. Been down this road before I'm strong.
I guess regrets are just mistakes.
We can't give back the things we take. Like words, or tears, or love and hate. Cause once they're gone, your price is paid.
I guess you have to fall apart, to find out who you really are.
These scars are often seen by eyes, that most won't touch or can't describe.
I cannot run, I will not hide.
It's always dark before the light.
She softly prayed, "will I be saved?.. I'm sorry God, I've lost my way." so full of hate and fueled by rage.
Was born to die, but not a slave.
She begged and plead to save her soul. Along the way she lost control.
The sweetest touch, the softest kiss. Like heroin, a junkies fix.
She can't go on, she can't give in.
She's trapped in hell with all her sins.
I'm sick of being tired, I just don't give a damn.
Im sick of wearing daily masks, I don't know who I am.
I'm sick of being fearless when fear is all I've known. I'm sick being on these streets, a cold and lonely road.
R