Pretty mess with a pretty voice,
humming in my ear, drowning out the worlds noise.
Such a pretty one, such a messed up one.
I once was lost, then I was found.
I want to make things better the second time around.
What a precious sound, hearing the words a second time around.
And how well you understand, as if I would back then,
how well they understand that's who I was not who I am.
And I'm not a perfect soul, and I'll fall again I know.
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