the world is dead
but in my head
the "not good enough" still roams
the world is dead
and by a thread
my consciousness is thrown.
I see my body in the mirror
too fat, too big
too much I fear
that even when the world is dead
I won't.
I won't be enough for anyone
because I can't use a glue gun
or create a piece of which DaVinci would
approve.
I won't be enough for anyone
so **** it all, I'm flying on
the world takes time to love
time I don't have.
I look now, I am enough,
I'm adequate, ample, strong enough
to take the earth by storm
and prove my worth.
so **** it all, I'm flying on
I'm flying on.