Who I Am
I am someone who is shrouded in mystery…
All of you say you know me; that you've got me all figured out.
And that's where you're wrong.
You think you can read me like an open book…
But you… you're still reading the introduction.
My family, they think they know me, but…
They're still stuck before the locked pages of my soul.
My mind and soul aren't what they seem.
Who I am…
I am an unfinished book.
But you… none of you will figure me out…
You won't know me until you find the key to those pages.
Who I am… is shrouded in mystery.
Who I am… wants to be discovered.
Who I am… feels lost and unsure of myself.
Who I am… waits for you.
I am an unfinished book, torn, used, tossed aside…
And tightly locked.
Can any of you find the key?
Can any of you fix me up?
Can any of you repair my pages, the pieces of my soul?
Who I am… I am me.
Who I am… I am a book, waiting…
To be fixed… and to be read.
An unfinished book.
Heal my pages and discover me.
That… that is who I am.