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When your words |
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Come too easily for me to believe |
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And this paint goes on too thinly |
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To peel away |
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I will find |
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A silver lining sometime |
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Blur my vision |
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And I'll be fine |
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And I'll be fine... |
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From the pages of the magazines |
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I hate the way they look at me |
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With every smile and every laugh |
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There's something I will always lack |
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And maybe, just maybe |
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I'm imperfect to me |
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And I'll be seen |
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When your words |
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Run forever in my mind |
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And those greens |
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And those blues |
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Seem too perfect to true |
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I will light a fire every time |
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I think to myself |
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I will be fine |
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I will be fine |
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From the pages of the magazines |
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I hate the way they look at me |
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With every smile and every laugh |
|
There's something I will always lack |
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And maybe, just maybe |
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I'm imperfect to me |
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And I'll be seen |
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And I'll go home |
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I will be |
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And I'll be strong for showing me |
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This beauty is not clear to me |
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This beauty is not clear to me |
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To me, to me, to me... |
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To me, to me, to me... |
|
From the pages of the magazines |
|
I hate the way they look at me |
|
With every smile and every laugh |
|
There's something I will always lack |
|
And maybe, just maybe |
|
I'm imperfect to me |
|
And I'll be seen |
|
From the pages of the magazines |
|
I hate the way they look at me |
|
With every smile and every laugh |
|
There's something I will always lack |
|
And maybe, just maybe |
|
This beauty will be clearer to me |
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To me, to me, to me... |