You claim I’m giving pieces of myself. Like candy cut up for the crowds. You claim I’m just like everybody else. That I don’t know the value of myself. Nobody can take what I don’t give. I still at the core am who I am. These scars upon my soul will soon fast heal. I am not shattered I’m just bruised. Those pieces that I gave were not abused. My heart is never broken it’s just bruised. No matter what you say you’ll never know. Because I love to share some secrets of my soul. I chose carefully those my lips should greet. I know them by their eyes and energy. Those mistaken lovers that I’ve held they helped me to learn some more about myself. You may claim I’m giving pieces of myself. But my body’s not my soul nor is my wealth. I give what I chose and nothing else. What I give is not lost. I love to commune with other souls. It’s not for the pleasure nor the pain. But sometimes they bring me stories through their rain. If I lose then I also gain. I’ve held more souls than you may know But we are not only or one soul. I am not lost nor incomplete. There is no brokenness in me. I stitch up my scars most every day. These are only small prices that I pay. I love to live and life often is also loss. In living yes there is always a loss. But I’d rather live with this known cost. Then to break and shatter at the top. In the end I’ve only learned I’ve never lost. The pieces that have left weren’t meant to stay. They’re part of growing older every day. In the end, I still know who I am. Nothing is missing in myself except perhaps I’ve held more hands than someone else. But there is nothing missing from myself.
Capo. 7 verses are G e G e. Chorus is G D e G
The Silent Singer 