Real
A girl can't help it if she's got
Emotional baggage.
She was born with the ticket
And she has to go up and claim it.
She'll tell you herself
With a gentle dead smile
These rotten fruits and shards of glass
Can stain her hands alone.
Every day her life gets
A handful more dismal.
It's hard to believe that
Her hardships are true.
It's part of her life.
She's got to choose
To ignore it and be wax
Or to shout it out and be real.
When life has set her clothes on fire
She can only burn with pride.
And when life puts her out in the flood
She can either drink or drown.
She swims and soars and sings
And cries herself to sleep.
And she dreams of painting
With her crimson tears.
When she wakes, she climbs on the roof
And screams.
"I am alive!"
"I am real!"
It's been hard for her to accept
That people don't love her.
It's the scars of her tears
That drive them away.
She has no right to complain,
For she's alive.
She has friends and something to eat.
Right now she can ask for no more.
The courage it takes each morning
To keep on breathing--
It's amazing she has something
To live for at all.
But each day as
Her heartache grows
Her will to live grows stronger
And she thrives as her dreams die.
When life has set her clothes on fire
She can only burn with pride.
And when life puts her out in the flood
She can either drink or drown.
She swims and soars and sings
And cries herself to sleep.
And she dreams of painting
With her crimson tears.
When she wakes, she climbs on the roof
And screams.
"I am alive!"
"I am real!"
A girl can't help it if she's got
Emotional baggage.
She was born with the ticket
And she has to go up and claim it.
It's part of her life.
She's got to choose
To ignore it and be wax
Or to shout it out and be real.
