They all tell me I'm "special"
They all say that I'm "different"
That I'm "pure of heart" and have "good intentions"
I hate to say I can't believe them
No matter how hard I try, and know matter how many times times they say it
Chorus
The rain pours harder
The drops on the roof
Unable to be continued
To many to imagine.
I return to my thoughts
Bright lamp burning in my eyes.
They all call me "princess" as if I'm brave.
They all call me "sweetheart" as if I'm kind.
They all call me "strong" as if I am.
When...
When I'm the only one who knows...
I am none of those things.
I can't be.
I am not brave I am a coward.
I am not kind I am selfish.
I am not strong for I am
Weak.
