I wanna write a song
I wanna tell the whole world something on my mind
Make it catchy and fun and rhyme
But I’m afraid I’d get it all wrong

I wanna write a song
And sing it for everyone to hear
But my voice isn’t that great and my uke sits unplayed
I’m sure nobody would sing along

Oh look what I’ve done
In spite of it all, in the height of it all
I’ve put the words on the page, I’ve won.
Despite the stupid insistence of my thoughts; so persistent
I’ve gone and wrote a song

I want to make someone proud
Not in the way they’ve told me they are
I want to see it on their face and be able to tell
Without them saying it aloud

I just wanna write a song
It doesn’t even have to make any sense (cents?)
I really wanna put something out there
And prove to myself what I’ve know all along

Oh look what I’ve done
In spite of it all, in the height of it all
I’ve put the words on the page, I’ve won.
Despite the stupid insistence of my thoughts; so persistent
I’ve gone and wrote a song

And I know it doesn’t seem like much but to me it’s a first
Here’s to all of the others who think everything they make is the worst

the room is suffocating, I am spiraling
I thought this was my season but I am unwell
there's so much I want but so little I have
I feel like I am stuck at the bottom of a well
can see the light and life above but I remain in my broken shell
I want to feel even a little bit more secure
I want to smile and sing with the birds
my foundation is shaky, my will is breaking
waiting for someone to save me
I tried to save myself with no help
I tried to love myself to no help
I tried to do it alone with no help
I tried to run from it all with no help
I just really want to be held
I just really want to be felt
make the most of these cards I was dealt

Somewhere in the sands of time,
I hear the sound of a faithful cry..
from a bird with broken wings
who sings "my hope will never die!"..
His chances are less than average.
He's a candle in a hurricane.
Still he bows beaneath the storm
and he sings louder amidst the rain.
He knows what he'd become
if it were not for his broken wings..
He'd probably make a nest of thorns
and fill it up with shining things.
He might say "I'll sing tomorrow" -
But tomorrow might never come..
And the only awful song would be
a song that he never sung.
And what would he become
when his soul no longer sings?
So, he sings his songs of gratitude
all the more with his broken wings..

Incubus Drive
is when me and the neighbours fall out
it's not just the volume
furniture moving bass
but I have to sing
full shout
I know all the words
you see
cos I played it
so many ******* times
it's ingrained on my beer brain
all my inhibitions
blown out
I'm on stage
in front of the microphone
air guitar
I'm no Brandon Boyd
but by Christ I'm on fire tonight

To the dancer in the dark: what you do
isn't a walk in the park.
So don't be afraid to let someone
shine a light on you.
To the singer in the shower:
you know as well as anyone
how music can heal.
So let people hear your power.
To the sketchbook artist:
one person's trash is another's treasure.
So, please: don't throw something away
even if it doesn't give you pleasure.
To everyone else:
you all had dreams at some point.
If you're friends with artists, respect the hustle. Respect the passion.
Help keep the dream alive.
Because dreaming is still
how the strong survive.
But they can't do it all alone.

I listen to your heart
Beat in rhythm to the rain
Pouring out somber melodies.
The world drapes silent,
Where your eyes sing
Meteor shower wonders.
Sometimes,
It feels too much to grasp,
Tied to an endless
Invisible string around my palm.

A couple days ago
I’ve checked up on you.
I admit, even though I’ve let go,
I couldn’t miss out, had to
See your last show.

I had to know
You’re alright.
You don’t sing the bridge like you used to.
Or maybe it was just that night?
Do I care? I don’t know if I hope that you do.

Since I left, I’ve become fuller.
Therapy helps and yes, now I can see.
I was such a stupid woman.
I still am, it’s that now I can breath and just be,
I don’t break upon hearing your name.

I’ve checked up on you, I admit.
You were laughing, dancing and smiling.
I’m so glad that I did what I did.
Despite that lingering, horrible feeling
I can’t shake. I still care.
I still care.

I still care.