| At twenty years of age
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| I’m still looking for a dream
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| A war’s already waged
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| For my destiny
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| But you’ve already won the battle
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| And you’ve got great plans for me
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| Though I can’t always see
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| Cause I got a couple dents in my fender
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| Got a couple rips in my jeans
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| Try to fit the pieces together
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| But perfection is my enemy
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| On my own I’m so clumsy
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| But on your shoulders I can see
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| I’m free to be me
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| When I was just a girl
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| I thought I had it figured out
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| My life would turn out right
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| And I’d make it here somehow
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| But things don’t always come that easy
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| And sometimes I would doubt
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| Cause I got a couple dents in my fender
|
| Got a couple rips in my jeans
|
| Try to fit the pieces together
|
| But perfection is my enemy
|
| On my own I’m so clumsy
|
| But on your shoulders I can see
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| I’m free to be me
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| And you’re free to be you
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| Sometimes I believe
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| That I can do anything
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| Yet other times I think
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| I’ve got nothing good to bring
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| But you look at my heart and you tell me
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| That I’ve got all you seek
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| And it’s easy to believe
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| Even though
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| Cause I got a couple dents in my fender
|
| Got a couple rips in my jeans
|
| Try to fit the pieces together
|
| But perfection is my enemy
|
| On my own I’m so clumsy
|
| But on your shoulders I can see
|
| I’m free to be me |