It's in one breath that the syllables come falling out,
Can't break one down if they don't know a thing about doubt,
I'm stronger, braver, wiser, faster,
Than I ever been before,
Strong young woman pushing her way through the door.
We all have to learn the truth,
One way or another,
A blossom can't bloom if she sits in the shade of another,
or settles in an early grave,
or mutes her inner courage because some people have the power to discourage.
No.
I will keep trying,
keep fighting, keep speaking, running, delighting, no more crying, no more lying, no more sorry I don't need you no more so why aren't you dying...
Who you are, it's not who they say you should be,
Who you are, is not that girl in the back seat of the car,
Or the child that didn't get enough,
Or the young girl that was told she wasn't enough I don't bluff,
Or the broken down, rusted edges, repeating pledges,
Like the lines are to be what he says is...
No the syllables, like the gullible, unsolvable, fall out of her mouth,
Past the not so passive curve of her worried, determined lips...
Who you are is not who I should be, but I'm wide awake, make the earth shake,
You'll just break, who you are is not who I am,
The reflection on the glass is the better to understand.
Who you are is a prisoner of the limitation disease, and I?
Yes I am the woman I am supposed to be,
A woman truly free.
NOT who you are.