| Take these arms, these legs
|
| They are broken
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| This love is too much
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| I am frozen
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| And I don’t know if I have what it takes
|
| To be chosen
|
| I arose with wings, and I am flightless
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| Someone’s carving a statue in my likeness
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| And I will never live up to this portrait
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| I’m just posing
|
| And I don’t know if I have what it takes
|
| To be chosen
|
| Give me a sign, a photo, a map
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| Something to go by
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| How am I supposed to know
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| What I’m supposed to look like
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| I’m leaving dust
|
| Running fast like I’ve always done
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| From everyone
|
| Stepping up to know battles
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| No, I never win
|
| Laces undone and I am always falling
|
| Dodging my own heart like a bullet
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| Full of failure and sin
|
| And I don’t know if I have what it takes
|
| To be chosen
|
| I am tired, worn thin from
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| Healing wounds inflicted by my own score
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| I am at war and I am alone
|
| And I take off before the horn’s blown
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| And I hear all the doors on the hinges
|
| And now for some reason
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| I’m scared of all of them closing
|
| Still I don’t know if I have what it takes
|
| To be chosen |