I know my heart will never be the sameBut I'm telling myself I'll be okay

Even on my weakest daysI get a little bit stronger

I'm holding up, Lord willing and the creek don't rise.

If it's not exactly like you thought it would be, you think it's a failure. What about the spectrum of colors in between.

But how do you wait for heavenAnd who has that much timeAnd how do you keep your feet on the groundWhen you know, that you were born, you were born to fly