Did they ever know
How much I still want to be an artist
To go out, grow up and show my music to the world?
That the reason I wouldn't practice
Was simply because I was told, You'll never be good enough,
To make it onto that big stage you're dreaming of
Even still, I urge to pick up that old guitar
And strum my heart out,
Though I can never get far
My voice doesn't reach. It squeaks, creaks and misses the notes, always somewhat high
It goes off-pitch with the simplest of rhythms, and makes me want to cry
Even still, I pick up that guitar, the one I learned in three damm days
I shout, I scream and I cry out my pain
Though before, I make sure no one is listening
I play that song that stays on my mind
Then I put it down, sit there and cry
I want to be someone a child will look up to
She'll say "Mommy, I want to be like her too!"
I will make a song that can make the world cry
Not with sadness or pain
But because I'll show them how to fly
I want to shout out "So What"
So what if I don't make it far
So what if I scream and burn like a dying star
With no hope of getting out of this place, with no escape but So what
At least I would have tried to be more than what I think i'll ever be
I wonder if I could ever be that brave
To take the chance, to take my stance
And show the world exactly what I could be
Because someday, If i try
I can look back and say to myself
Look at what you Will be
