“I don’t like to hold back, because that’s how you hurt yourself.”

You’re constantly trying to prove yourself, even after you’ve made it.

Sometimes I remember the darkness of my past, bringing back these memories I wish I didn’t have.

I’m strong on the surface, not all the way through. I’ve never been perfect, but neither have you.

Memories consume, like opening the wound, I’m picking me apart again. You all assume, I’m safe here in my room, unless I try to start again.

I’m strong on the outside, not all the way through. I’ve never been perfect, but neither have you.

Help me leave behind some reasons to be missed

The reality in terms of the way the music has connected globally has exceeded what any of us could’ve imagined.

I can’t fall back, I came too far/Hold myself up, and love my scars.

I’ll face myself to cross out what I’ve become, erase myself, and let go of what I’ve done.

And when you’re feeling empty, keep me memory, and leave out all the rest, leave out all the rest.

The 2000s were full of baggy pants and colored hair.

I know I’ll never trust a single thing you say. You knew your lies would divide us, but you lied anyway. And all the lies have got you floating up above us all. But what goes up has got to fall

I tried so hard, and got so far, but in the end, it doesn’t even matter. I had to fall to lose it all, but in the end, it doesn’t even matter.

Crawling in my skin these wounds, they will not heal. Fear is how I fall confusing what is real.

I want to find something I’ve wanted all along, Somewhere I belong.

Things aren’t the way they were before, you wouldn’t even recognize me anymore. Not that you knew me back then, but it all comes back to me in the end.

When I am hurt I appreciate everything around me. That’s how I heal.

Some days, all of it aches with beauty.  Others, it all just aches with you.

As far as you can avoid it, do not give grief to anyone. Never inflict your rage on another. If you hope for eternal rest, feel the pain yourself; but don’t hurt others.

It is the wind and the rain, O God, the cold and the storm that make this earth of yours to blossom and bear its fruit. So in our lives it is storm and stress and hurt and suffering that make real men and women bring the world’s work to its highest perfection.

Some people turn sad awfully young. No special reason, it seems, but they seem almost to be born that way. They bruise easier, tire faster, cry quicker, remember longer and, as I say, get sadder younger than anyone else in the world. I know, for I’m one of them.

Nothing hurts worse than the loss of money.

You are more than the things that have hurt you.

Sometimes anger is the hardened hurt we never healed from.