| Song | Inherited Scars |
| Artist | Sage Francis |
| Album | Personal Journals |
| 作曲 : Francis | |
| I didn't tell anyone about what | |
| I seen or heard that day, mum's the word still | |
| I'm scared to plant ideas into your head while your rebellious side is fertile | |
| Hurdles are getting knocked down | |
| I'm running a losing race | |
| Your legs aren't the only ones marked up - how many dreams have you chased? | |
| If I could have said this to your face maybe you wouldn't have to write like | |
| I do, Except | |
| I use paper instead of my body now; it's something you might want to try too | |
| From haikus to horror stories, it's something in our blood that we share, | |
| Something in our blood that appears on the surface of our skin when we bring it there | |
| My facial expression said | |
| I didn't care | |
| Hate and aggression must've made an impression on the little kid who stared, | |
| Sitting on stairs when | |
| I would bother to bring my skates | |
| My feeble attempt at being a strong, big brother doing father figure 8's | |
| Ripping my cape on the ground that it dragged on | |
| Tripping on fate and hearing the sounds of a sad song | |
| Listen, it's great sharing time now that dad's gone, | |
| But what's with the choice of words? | |
| Or the body parts that you decided to tag them on? | |
| I'm a vagabond, who moved to modern day | |
| Babylon and then back again | |
| With minimal contact and you know | |
| I can't ask your mom what's happening | |
| You've got such beautiful gifts | |
| What are you doing ruining the packaging? | |
| How ironic come to think | |
| I probably put this ink on my back for him | |
| I want you to laugh and sing more, | |
| But you dropped anchor in a place where dreams go to die and you're keeping your ass indoors | |
| I'm asking for you to stick it out and see things through | |
| You're asking for me to zip my mouth and keep it just between me and you [Chorus] | |
| If I could have been there from the beginning if | |
| I could be there right now if | |
| I could promise to be there when you need me, would it raise an eyebrow? | |
| How would your body be different if | |
| I still dropped by for visits? | |
| Is it my place to put a smile on your face? | |
| Could I erase your body language telling you its all been said before? | |
| Or change the words you wrote, exchanging your scars for my metaphors? | |
| I'd add them to my collection while smiling | |
| Next time you want to paint with razor blades and need a canvas use my skin [Verse Two] | |
| Hiding your sins well, but | |
| I see the hell that your limbs speak | |
| Tongue in cheek | |
| Lying awake in bed while other kids sleep | |
| The strength of evil begins to keep your grins weak | |
| No matter the length of the needle marking up one's body is so much more than skin deep | |
| Feel the pin prick | |
| The grim reap what they sew and you're trained to say that you're fine | |
| Your threshhold for pain is greater than mine | |
| So I'm waiting in the lines that you give me patiently, | |
| While you get cut in the lines that | |
| THEY make | |
| YOU wait inin ways that they can't see | |
| If there's a vacancy as far as room in your life goes, say it to me | |
| But don't do it with a knife under your clothes | |
| Because the anguish of hidden skin is letting my ghosts be shown | |
| Plus the language its written in hits especially close to home | |
| I'm most alone when | |
| I'm out of touch with the people who feel this type of pain | |
| You might just aim for a day that its raining to strike a vein to take my name in | |
| Changing your uniform and altering your mind set | |
| Has your pointer finger decided if it was a fault of his or mine yet? | |
| I bet I know the dialect | |
| It's nowhere | |
| I haven't been before | |
| With skin that's sore | |
| Battle scars that rise from our inner war | |
| Are decorative medals of honor that our father decided to pass through inheritance | |
| And it is repetitive when the kids head in the direction of evidence proving the pain and hurt is relative | |
| All this pain and hurt is relative... (repeat chorus) | |
| Fade to black |
| zuò qǔ : Francis | |
| I didn' t tell anyone about what | |
| I seen or heard that day, mum' s the word still | |
| I' m scared to plant ideas into your head while your rebellious side is fertile | |
| Hurdles are getting knocked down | |
| I' m running a losing race | |
| Your legs aren' t the only ones marked up how many dreams have you chased? | |
| If I could have said this to your face maybe you wouldn' t have to write like | |
| I do, Except | |
| I use paper instead of my body now it' s something you might want to try too | |
| From haikus to horror stories, it' s something in our blood that we share, | |
| Something in our blood that appears on the surface of our skin when we bring it there | |
| My facial expression said | |
| I didn' t care | |
| Hate and aggression must' ve made an impression on the little kid who stared, | |
| Sitting on stairs when | |
| I would bother to bring my skates | |
| My feeble attempt at being a strong, big brother doing father figure 8' s | |
| Ripping my cape on the ground that it dragged on | |
| Tripping on fate and hearing the sounds of a sad song | |
| Listen, it' s great sharing time now that dad' s gone, | |
| But what' s with the choice of words? | |
| Or the body parts that you decided to tag them on? | |
| I' m a vagabond, who moved to modern day | |
| Babylon and then back again | |
| With minimal contact and you know | |
| I can' t ask your mom what' s happening | |
| You' ve got such beautiful gifts | |
| What are you doing ruining the packaging? | |
| How ironic come to think | |
| I probably put this ink on my back for him | |
| I want you to laugh and sing more, | |
| But you dropped anchor in a place where dreams go to die and you' re keeping your ass indoors | |
| I' m asking for you to stick it out and see things through | |
| You' re asking for me to zip my mouth and keep it just between me and you Chorus | |
| If I could have been there from the beginning if | |
| I could be there right now if | |
| I could promise to be there when you need me, would it raise an eyebrow? | |
| How would your body be different if | |
| I still dropped by for visits? | |
| Is it my place to put a smile on your face? | |
| Could I erase your body language telling you its all been said before? | |
| Or change the words you wrote, exchanging your scars for my metaphors? | |
| I' d add them to my collection while smiling | |
| Next time you want to paint with razor blades and need a canvas use my skin Verse Two | |
| Hiding your sins well, but | |
| I see the hell that your limbs speak | |
| Tongue in cheek | |
| Lying awake in bed while other kids sleep | |
| The strength of evil begins to keep your grins weak | |
| No matter the length of the needle marking up one' s body is so much more than skin deep | |
| Feel the pin prick | |
| The grim reap what they sew and you' re trained to say that you' re fine | |
| Your threshhold for pain is greater than mine | |
| So I' m waiting in the lines that you give me patiently, | |
| While you get cut in the lines that | |
| THEY make | |
| YOU wait inin ways that they can' t see | |
| If there' s a vacancy as far as room in your life goes, say it to me | |
| But don' t do it with a knife under your clothes | |
| Because the anguish of hidden skin is letting my ghosts be shown | |
| Plus the language its written in hits especially close to home | |
| I' m most alone when | |
| I' m out of touch with the people who feel this type of pain | |
| You might just aim for a day that its raining to strike a vein to take my name in | |
| Changing your uniform and altering your mind set | |
| Has your pointer finger decided if it was a fault of his or mine yet? | |
| I bet I know the dialect | |
| It' s nowhere | |
| I haven' t been before | |
| With skin that' s sore | |
| Battle scars that rise from our inner war | |
| Are decorative medals of honor that our father decided to pass through inheritance | |
| And it is repetitive when the kids head in the direction of evidence proving the pain and hurt is relative | |
| All this pain and hurt is relative... repeat chorus | |
| Fade to black |