It’s not sim ple to say

that most days

I don’t rec og nize me that these (Eb)shoes and this a pron, that place and its pa trons have (Cb)tak en more than I gave them.

It’s not eas y to know;

I’m not (Db)an y thing

like I used to be, al though it’s true I was nev er at ten tion’s sweet cen ter, (Cb)I still re mem ber that girl.

She’s im (Gb)per fect,

but she tries.

She is (Db)good,

but she lies.

She is (Eb)hard

on her self.

She is (Cb)bro ken and won’t ask for help.

She is (Gb)mess y,

but she’s kind.

She is (Db)lone ly

most of the time.

She is (Eb)all of this, mixed up and baked in a beau ti ful pie.

She is gone, but she used to be (Gb)mine.

And it’s not what I asked for.

Some times (Db)life

just slips in through a back door and (Eb)carves out a per son and makes you be lieve it’s all (Cb)true.

And (Cb)now I’ve got (Cb)you.

And you’re not what I asked for.

If I’m hon est, I know I would (Bb)give it all back for a chance to start o ver and re write an (Eb)end ing or two

(Cb)girl that I knew, who was (Gb)reck less,

just e nough;

who gets hurt,

but who learns how to tough en up when she’s (Eb)bruised

and gets used by a (Eb)man who can’t (Cb)love.

And (Cb)then she’ll get stuck, and be (Gb)scared

life that’s in side her, (Bb)strong er each day,

fi re minds her to (Eb)fight just a lit tle to bring back the fire in her eyes

that’s been (Cb)gone, but (Ab)used to be (Gb)mine,

it (Bb)used to be (Eb)mine.

She is (Gb)mess y,

but she’s kind.

She is (Db)lone ly

most of the time.

She is (Eb)all of this, mixed up and baked in a beau ti ful pie.

She is gone, but she used to be mine.