This is the song I'm too scared to write

But some of you may need it tonight

Oh there you were, heart made of glass

Fragile little thing, shattered too fast

Tried to pick the pieces up, up, up

And that's the way you first got cut, cut, cut

Devil drew you in, you didn't let it show

Didn't want the others to ever have to know

That you were getting hooked on up, up, up

And all you had to do was cut, cut, cut

You carved a special place for your pain

So it came back to hurt you every night

You closed your eyes and wished it all away

Until you disappeared under the knife

You knew the deal, no one gives a damn

Just another needy kid, sob story in hand

Keep your secrets covered up, up, up

We don't need another cut, cut, cut

But you couldn't hide, a heart made of glass

You put yourself together with all the strength you had

You were finally fed up, up, up

Finally had to scream enough-nough-nough

You carved a special place for your pain

So it came back to hurt you every night

You closed your eyes and wished it all away

Until you disappeared under the knife

Listen, I know it's simplified from the other side

It's easy to gloss over all the messy reasons why

And it's easy to forget where you've been

I guess that's what the scars are for, huh?

When we were fifteen we wouldn't dare let that shit be seen

But now it seems mutilation's gone mainstream

I see you at my shows, scarred up from head to toe

Like there's no point even trying not to let it show

Cause we all know, emo kids like to hurt themselves

Too many feelings, and not enough self control

And I mean does this mess with any of the rest of ya?

It's an epidemic and we're cool with it don't question it

But it bothers me, our scars are currency by which we're measured

Like let the record show who let it slip and who held it together

Cutters and burners and honorable mentions

Posers who still cut themselves up for the attention

I don't care your intentions, I just want you to know

My self-hatred never took me where I wanted to go

At the end of the day, you know I still had to face

That I can pick at the pain, but I can't cut it away

And you know what else I can't do, is give you ten good reasons not to

I've racked my brain for clever sayings of all the things you ought to do

But you know I think if there was something I could say

They'd have thrown it on a brochure and sent you on your way

So I'll keep doing what I always do

Drag my heart to the piano and make it sing for you

I'll keep doing what I always do

Drag my heart to the piano and let it sing for you...

Drag my heart to the piano and let it sing for you