With every day I pass through
I look at my paperwork
And wonder if this is regret
I have mountains of things to do
Amounting to my worth
What was it that I said
My dream is to stand up at Madison Square
Me, my guitar, and a band
Even if I don’t have anyone there
All I’d need is a microphone stand
But here I sit one more time in my bed
Writing out my pain
No one can hear the song in my head
Nobody knows my name
I look up at the superstars
Jealous of the power in their voices
The black hole is eating at my heart
And I can’t stop crying
I look at the stuff around me
Always second-guessing my choices
Trying to be what I said I’d be
But I can’t stop thinking of dying
What did I promise myself
I could trade in one dream
I could write all these papers for life
It’s not like I don’t have help
There is nothing stopping me
I am just wasting my time
My dream was to stand at Madison Square
Be the diva I am
Belt out my drama, lay everything bare
All I need is a microphone stand
But here I ache, mourning my dreams again
Knowing I won’t leave the ground
I have all this yearning and music in my head
But I cannot make a sound
I look up at the superstars
Jealous of the power in their voices
The black hole is eating at my heart
And I can’t stop crying
I look at the stuff around me
Always second-guessing my choices
Trying to be what I said I’d be
But I can’t stop thinking of dying
I know, I know what I did wrong
That doesn’t mean I can stop crying
When I can’t even sing this song
I write for the diva I am not
I am soft
I convince myself to crush my dreams
Leave my feelings in the dust
I told myself to end my misery
I know my voice is not enough
I know myself and what might seem
Like everything that I love
I can distract myself with all this stuff
But I know what it means
I hate myself for giving up
on me
I look up at the superstars
Jealous of the power in their voices
The black hole is eating at my heart
And I can’t stop crying
I look at the stuff around me
Always second-guessing my choices
Trying to be what I said I’d be
But I can’t stop thinking of dying
I know, I know what I did wrong
That doesn’t mean I can stop crying
When I can’t even sing this song
I write for the diva I am not
I am soft
In my head my voice can handle the *
But when I sing it sounds more like **
I am soft
*Belt run in mixed voice
** Repeat run in head voice or falsetto, blemished

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