Who Am I?

When I was younger I had the wildest imagination

To find love worth dying for

To heal my wounds and saturate my blues

But it wasn't all roses

See defining yourself by love is like cutting

(Do you still think about me)

And it's easy to hate them but ask yourself

Who am I?

Why am I here?

When it all goes to shit where do I stand?

When love turns sour and there's thorns where there used to be flowers

But hidden in the belly of the blues is life's most precious truth