the one before you tried to heal my scars.
he always said
"baby, no one wants to buy damaged goods."
and i always nodded my head, kissed his cheek,
let him try and heal my scars so i would be
his perfect angel.
then you came along,
you encouraged me to leap under the fiery sun,
let my scars burn white hot like an angel's wings.
you always said
"baby, no one wants a carbon copy;
your scars make you the best kind of uniquely beautiful."
and although you may be gone now,
i will always remember to dance under the fiery sun
and let my scars burn white hot...
just like an angel's wings.