Somewhere between floating and falling.
Too numb to feel myself.
I play pretend so no one has to,
while my heart sits on a shelf.
My kindness is not weakness,
nor is innocence my game.
But no one ever sees me,
they just simply know my name.
Here I am, a woman,
in a worn out pair of shoes.
I never learned to play guitar,
or I would strum the blues.
And I'm carrying my roots
since I can't find solid ground.
I'm just blowing in the winds
with all the other sights and sounds.
The world gave me music,
and what I capture with my lens.
And it's the beauty that I find,
that always pulls me back in.
I know that train is leaving,
and I haven't got a dime.
Something grab ahold of me,
because I'm running out of time.