Sanoja: Charlotte Martin. Redeemed.
Every tree has got a root
And every girl forbidden fruit and got her demons
And the path I chose to go, a different girl so long ago
I had my reasons
And she?s in my head so loud, screaming
"Shouldn?t you be proud of what you came from?
Oh, you?ve been crippled and you?ve walked on
You?ve been shut up and you talked, so let?s talk some more"
Where is the hand for me to reach?
Where is the moral I?ll ever teach myself?
In all the black, in all the grief, I am redeemed
And it?s ripping at my heart
Because I?m dodging all the darts and on a slow train
And then I?ll wear it ?til it tatters
And it shatters on the floor in instant replay
Oh, we?re all rotten and we?re pure
And we?re just looking for the cure that feels like spring snow
And all we have is who we are
And where we?ve been got us this far, so let me go
Where is the hand for me to reach?
Where is the moral I?ll never teach myself?
In all the black, in all the grief, I am redeemed
Where is the hand for me to reach?
Where is the moral I?ll never teach myself?
In all the black, in all the grief through all the pain, and unbelief
These are the words, that they all scream, I am redeemed
And every girl forbidden fruit and got her demons
And the path I chose to go, a different girl so long ago
I had my reasons
And she?s in my head so loud, screaming
"Shouldn?t you be proud of what you came from?
Oh, you?ve been crippled and you?ve walked on
You?ve been shut up and you talked, so let?s talk some more"
Where is the hand for me to reach?
Where is the moral I?ll ever teach myself?
In all the black, in all the grief, I am redeemed
And it?s ripping at my heart
Because I?m dodging all the darts and on a slow train
And then I?ll wear it ?til it tatters
And it shatters on the floor in instant replay
Oh, we?re all rotten and we?re pure
And we?re just looking for the cure that feels like spring snow
And all we have is who we are
And where we?ve been got us this far, so let me go
Where is the hand for me to reach?
Where is the moral I?ll never teach myself?
In all the black, in all the grief, I am redeemed
Where is the hand for me to reach?
Where is the moral I?ll never teach myself?
In all the black, in all the grief through all the pain, and unbelief
These are the words, that they all scream, I am redeemed
Martin, Charlotte
Martin, Charlotte
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