We are the generation of a broken past, we have scars and bruises, so we grow up fast.
We may be lost, we may be torn.
Yeah, the fights in our minds, we yell and scorn.
Yet we gain in moments of pain, strength, so there, it's never in vain.
Here we are, standing together. But the devil in our head cries forever.
Alone it says, and we believe.
It's hard to ignore and want to leave.
But when we do, oh the relief.
We have to fight, we have to run.
We have to win the fight unwon.
We have the strength, we have the choice. There is a reason our pasts have voice.
Shout and scream, and chase the dream.
You have it all, be the seam.
Hold it together, lose your mind.
And by that I mean trust what you find
Don't be scared, and don't be frightened, you can do all, drop the weight, let your mind be lightened.