| You’re not a writer, you never were
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| You found other ways to prove your worth
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| If you find a way to have it all
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| Make sure you write to me
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| (I'm at the same address, I just don’t live there anymore)
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| The real you wouldn’t be scared
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| She’d know the world against you is all in your head
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| The real you would get out of bed
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| And forget about the things, the things that were never said
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| You’re never quiet, let it be known
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| That when you tire, it starts to show
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| You say what you feel unless it’s alone
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| You’ll need double that to let your creativity grow
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| The real you wouldn’t be scared
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| She’d know the world against you is all in your head
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| The real you would get out of bed
|
| And forget about the things, the things that were never said
|
| And forget about the things, the things that were never said
|
| The real you wouldn’t be scared
|
| She’d know the world against you is all in your head
|
| The real you would get out of bed
|
| And forget about the things, the things that were never said
|
| And forget about the things, the things that were never said |