You're not the street that you're born to
You're not the arms that hold you
You've got two feet to ten toes'
But you don't know what you don't know

Some go high
Some go low
Keep in mind
(The) places you'll go

Some get high
Some follow
(So) keep in mind

Tiny little specks among the grass
With the blades against our backs
We were absolutely made of glass
Something beautiful that I let crack
I wanted those three words but all you had

Was you’re too late
You’re too late
I can’t make you want what you don’t
When yo