| When contentment looks nice on other people
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| Was it sweat or smarts or genetics, I wonder
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| I’ve wanted to be old ladies and anyone
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| Who seemed to have it in their cellular structure
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| I think must have been born with some too
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| But I lost it somehow. |
| I ignored or forgot it
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| When I was13 and thought I’d be skinnier and popular without it
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| No one told me then nor I wouldn’t listen
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| That all that time with yourself could be more fun
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| If you didn’t keep wanting to be someone
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| Someone else…
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| Now, you have to be yourself, god knows, no one else is going to do it
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| Who’s going to see the things you saw and think the thoughts you thought or
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| wring the regrets you’ve wrought
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| Who’s going to wade through that doom with all the copious coping mechanisms
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| handed down to you, if you don’t, who’ll do it?
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| It’s your special combination of doubts and you finding your own way out and
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| remembering your own way in to who you’ve always been
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| You’ve got to be yourself god knows, no one else is gonna do it;
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| you just wake up, don’t give yourself too much hell, that’s all there is to it
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| So even if they assume you’re an Alyssa Milano, and you know you’re more like
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| Jennifer Jason Leigh
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| Don’t let it affect what you do tomorrow, because there’s only one you you can
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| be (except for that other several dozen)
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| You’ve got to be yourself. |
| God knows |