I want the kind of love that turns my past into an etch-a-sketch and shakes the broken out of me,
A selfishness that teaches me how to love myself unselfishly,
And a memory that reminds me of all the things I still wanna be,
A hindsight less than 20/20 so I can't see the past that's haunting me.
I want an apology that means something.
Give me the honey without the sting.
I'll shout one back and thank you because you brought me the things I couldn't bring.
Thing is:
Doubt has brought me about as much luck as a one-leaf clover.
I spend each day trying to find a way to get around everything I can't get over.
And I tried to die--I'm ashamed to admit--figuring if they bury me, I'll at least get under it.
So shake this broken out of me,
As if broken is a masterpiece, and my masterpiece looks like debris.
The world taught me a promise is not a guarantee; it's something that can break.
But if you take my broken, I guarantee I'll shake your broken into me.
*start song*
I may look like debris,
But I'm a masterpiece.
My next heartbeat,
Deserves a press release.
(repeat x1)
*end song*
If lonely is a highway, it's one you can't hitchhike on.
It's a lone stretch of highway with a center line sewn down it that looks kinda like a scar,
And there's no map that says "You are here" to tell you where you are.
I've learned you'll never know how far you've come if all you ever do is go.
I know stops signs and love amber lights 'cause they like to take things slow.
I know those who spent their life like quarters at a slot machine,
They spend each second gambling away all the things they could've been.
Brightly burning stars: minds like flame, love like kerosene.
And they burned out 'cause it's hard to read the fine print when it's written in the in-between.
No, we're not the only broken ones.
We have no number, just an estimate.
The number grows every day and there's no way we can keep track of it.
So if nothing else, at least you know you'll never be alone.
Our reflections are stained in the broken pieces of all the things we should've been.
*song (twice)*
Some of us read like novels, and others like short stories.
Some take what little love they have left, trying to complete their inventories.
Is there anything left to give after giving away everything we've got?
Have we traded away our memories trying to forget what we forgot?
A shot in the dark--that's just my version of a Hail Mary.
I don't believe in God, but it's that shot of hope trying to keep alive what the world keeps trying to bury.
How do we let go of all the things we shouldn't carry?
Do we mark our bags with tags set for different destinations?
Do we book cruises for our problems and send our baggage for vacations?
Truth is, we don't need much:
Some food, some drink, from time to time, some touch,
A crutch made out of shoulder if that's something you can spare.
All we need is time, and that's the truth about the dare.
We only get the middle:
The part with all the tears and laughter,
Everything between once upon a now and happily.
So shake this broken out of me.
Like broken is an art, and my masterpiece is debris.
The world taught me a promise is not a guarantee;
It's something that can break.
But if you take my broken, I guarantee I'll shake your broken into me.
*song (twice)*