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“Somewhere in the Middle” by Rob Weddle

I seek the light while I stumble in dark
Wanna start fires, yet barely a spark
Fantasy paints a more beautiful me
Healthier, wealthier, stronger and lean
Is this attainable? Maybe a little
The truth is lying somewhere in the middle

Part choir boy and part rebel, I guess
I’m a mystery to me, I’m the Lord’s perfect mess
Spinning my tales of a brighter someday
While the me of today is just wasting away
A wrought iron core with an armor too brittle
The truth is lying somewhere in the middle

Too saved for sinners, too grim for the saints
A born renegade with a hint of restraint
Enraged at the beast and the damage he’s done
Enmeshed in the battle I know will be won
I long to wage war but some days just piddle
The truth is lying somewhere in the middle

A body too broken, the heart of a child
With a spirit that longs to break free and run wild
Don’t lock me in I will not be enslaved
The grit of a soldier, the soul of a knave
Like a rock’n’roll song on an old country fiddle
The truth is lying somewhere in the middle

This entry was posted in Pain.
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