The Crack in the Glass

I wanted to go tell this guy off today,
he was running his mouth and he a lot to say,
it was like he knew me, he was talking to me, still his words went through me
and as angry as it made me it still mostly just confused me.
I wanted to ask him who he thought he was,
he just wouldn’t shut up and enough was enough.
There are people who want the respect of themselves,
so they box up their manners and put them on shelves,
they make it seem like they are prideful and free
but inside their heart cries and they just want to be,
they want to be something for others to envy,
but in turn their plans burn and people start resenting.
I wish that they who seem rude and so vein,
could form a new plan as to manage their pain.
As I stood in a room in seemed doubled in size
the mirror so clear it had troubled my eyes.
and it wasn’t ’til I saw a crack to the side,
that I realized that I was that I was that insecure guy.
There I stood like I should telling myself right off,
making faces at my thoughts who responded with scoffs.
I had put up a front so that I could hide, see?
But the only one trying to hurt me was me.

The crack in the glass is the only one who’s honest,
the only one who tells it like it is.
The crack in the glass is the only one that let me see,
that the only thing I’m hiding from is me.

My mirror tells me lies, but I get truth from the crack.
It saved me from my demise, and helped to bring me back.
I guess that I’m not like, the rest, I must be mad,
it seems my mirror’s break, it the best luck that I’ve had.

The crack in the mirror brought me to a field of grass,
where I sat to rest my feet up, cut up deep by shards of glass.
All around three leaf clovers smiled glad that I came over,
so I ran my fingers through them like a green game of red rover.
And my fingers would win every round, breaking through,
like a singer that sings without sound, I pursued,
for the things about me I would change, I’ve a queue,
when I spring off the ground I hope I’ll be renewed.
But first I need to find time for my cut up feet to heal,
if the pride you feel inside you isn’t real then what’s deal?
If you haven’t had the pleasure to reveal what you conceal,
then the ideal leisure of some self-regard you ought to feel.
The crack in the glass is the only one who’s honest,
and if you gaze into his glory you’ll feel confident I promise.
For not until you have the honest respect of yourself,
can you truly plan to ever respect anybody else.

The crack in the glass is the only one who’s honest,
the only one who tells it like it is.
The crack in the glass is the only one that let me see,
that the only thing I’m hiding from is me.

You cannot run from your mind, you cannot hide from your eyes,
you cannot form a disguise, you cannot say your goodbyes.
You cannot run from your mind, you cannot hide from your eyes,
you cannot form a disguise, you cannot say your goodbyes.
You cannot run from your mind, you cannot hide from your eyes,
you cannot form a disguise, you cannot say your goodbyes.

The crack (crack, crack, crack, crack)
The crack in the glass is the only one who’s honest,
the only one who tells it like it is.
The crack in the glass is the only one that let me see,
that the only thing I’m hiding from is me.
The crack in the glass is the only one who’s honest,
the only one who tells it like it is.
The crack in the glass is the only one that let me see,
that the only thing I’m hiding from is me.

The only thing I’m hiding from is me.

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