...
I just spent a night, cleaning my kitchen
Killing time, instead of writting songs
Im terrified that even if you listen
I wont have anything to say at all
Im so sorry if ive ever written
A line that sounded trite, but just not true
I promise it was never my intetion
To act like I know what youre going through
See I got a microphone, and im on the radio
But that doesn't mean I know, hopes and fears
So I can not assume, I know what to sing for you
I can only write the songs, I need to hear
I need to hear, I dont need all the answers
But questions, are a danger to the truth
I need to hear that what im doing matters
But im loved, for who I am, for not what I do

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