I’m scared to death of being poor. It’s like a fat girl who loses 500 pounds but is always fat inside. I grew up poor and will always feel poor inside. It’s my pet paranoia.
I’m insecure about everything, because I’m never going to look in the mirror and see this blond, blue-eyed girl. That is my idea of what I’d like to look like.
What am I supposed to do, Sit around and wait for you? Well I can’t do that, And there’s no turning back. I need time to move on, I need love to feel strong. Cause I’ve got time to think it through, And maybe I’m too good for you!
