Lyrics Framed Stretch Marks - Propaganda, Braille

Framed Stretch Marks

Dimelo!
Eres mi Alma!
Siempre!
If I could I’d frame your stretch marks
You only get them two ways
Giving birth or dropping weight
Either way, serious pain
She is my pride, my bride
But before her vato my pride was my bride
The picture of endurance, gave birth to a miracle
Them lines are memorials, freedom from the torture
And pounds you put on were the defense mechanism
Like «Maybe if I was ugly, then he would stop touching me»
And you endured the teasing of a fat girl on a track team and kept running
Huh, you tuned out the ridicule and every calorie burn
A cause for celebration
Them lines are victory laps, eternal gold medals
When I see ‘em, I’m reminded of the freedom, I’m so proud of you
How can I ever question the strength and ever doubt you?
And your struggles inspire, it’s physical literature
But the pain who gave life with the scars
To prove it, if I could, I’d frame them
It isn’t love if it doesn’t hurt
If you don’t feel it, then it doesn’t work!
The pain removes the scales, pulls back the veil
The bruises in the blood will always tell the tale
Of the grace of grief, the beauty of brokenness
The piece of pain, the hope of hopelessness
The ease of emotion, the frame for the feelings
The scars and stretch marks, the proof of God’s healing
Yeah, the birth pains have changed
Stretched to the limits, stretched marks from giving birth
To the death of a cynic and cinematic
My emotions like motion pictures imagine
A world with no beauty in it, all I see is the negative
Undeveloped negatives, nothing worth framing in my frame of mind
It’s like an empty gallery with white painted walls
All the flaws are hidden, I just wanna adjust my focus
Cause all I ever noticed is the thorns on the roses
And it’s moments like this when my hope is misguided
And I’m looking for perfection in a place I can’t find it
My body bears the marks of missing the mark daily
The only hope I hold is knowing that my God will never fail me
Even though I fall short and that’s no tall tale
Now I drive my point home with that new car smell
I see beauty in the scars, like colors in a collage
The greatest love gave me life through His death on the cross, yeah!
It isn’t love if it doesn’t hurt
If you don’t feel it, then it doesn’t work!
The pain removes the scales, pulls back the veil
The bruises in the blood will always tell the tale
Of the grace of grief, the beauty of brokenness
The piece of pain, the hope of hopelessness
The ease of emotion, the frame for the feelings
The scars and stretch marks are the proof of God’s healing