| Show me
|
| Who I am and who I could be
|
| Initiate the heart within me
|
| 'til it opens properly
|
| Slow down
|
| Start again from the beginning
|
| I can’t keep my head from spinning out of control
|
| Is this what being vulnerable feels like?
|
| And I will try, try, try to breathe
|
| 'til it turns to muscle memory
|
| I’m only steady on my knees
|
| One day I’ll stand on my own two feet
|
| And I’ll run the risk
|
| Of being intimate with brokenness
|
| Through this magnifying glass I see a thousand finger prints
|
| On the surfaces of who I am
|
| Show me
|
| Where to find a silver lining
|
| As the mercury keeps rising
|
| 'til the glass on my fever breaks
|
| Show me
|
| How to struggle gracefully
|
| Let the scaffolding inside of me be strong enough to hold this tired body up
|
| Once more
|
| And I will try, try, try to breathe
|
| 'til it turns to muscle memory
|
| I feel the pressure in my blood
|
| Building up and liberating me
|
| So I will try, try, try to breathe
|
| 'til it turns to muscle memory
|
| I’m only steady on my knees
|
| But one day I’ll stand on my own two feet
|
| And I’ll run the risk
|
| Of being intimate with brokenness
|
| Through this magnifying glass I see a thousand finger prints
|
| I ran the risk
|
| Of being intimate with my brokenness
|
| I was given a gift of hope and a thousand finger prints
|
| On the surfaces of who I am |