- cifra
Hair of gold and eyes of blue
Teach her how to be like you
Magazines taped to her wall
Easier to count her flaws
One for dessert
One for the hurt
One for the blame of a life that's led by shame
Beauty comes and beauty goes
When comes hers? Oh, no one knows
Failing grades, but it's okay
No one's counting anyway
One for the drink
One so she won't think
One punishing for the boy who said: Don't sing
Clothing covers many scars
Loathings covered at a bar
Demons tell her with a shrug
You are not worth being loved
Lord, pull me through
Break my chains and make me new
Lord, show me truth so I'll never go back to
The things I do
Lord, pull me through
I am so in love with you
Lord, show me truth
I will find my strength in you
You make me new
