| It’s not simple to say
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| That most days I don’t recognize me
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| That these shoes and this apron
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| That place and its patrons
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| Have taken more than I gave them
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| It’s not easy to know
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| I’m not anything like I used be, although it’s true
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| I was never attention’s sweet center
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| I still remember that girl
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| She is messy, but she’s kind
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| She is lonely most of the time
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| She is all of this mixed up and baked in a beautiful pie
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| She is gone, but she used to be mine
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| Who’ll be reckless, just enough
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| Who’ll get hurt, but who learns how to toughen up
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| When she’s bruised and gets used by a man who can’t love
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| And then she’ll get stuck
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| And be scared of the life that’s inside her
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| Growing stronger each day 'til it finally reminds her
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| To fight just a little, to bring back the fire in her eyes
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| That’s been gone, but used to be mine
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| Used to be mine
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| She is messy, but she’s kind
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| She is lonely most of the time
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| She is all of this mixed up and baked in a beautiful pie
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| She is gone, but she used to be mine |