Porcelain
Goddess with a cause and new bachelor's degree.
Last time I saw you,you just smiled
And asked about my shirt.
Couldn't answer well because I was blushing.
Your voice flows so smoothly,
Everything blurs.

How long 'till I end this party?
Midnight passed long ago.
Normally I wouldn't wallow in pity,
but dignity was the first to leave, you know.

I think I learned nothing
from that support group we were in,
but it loosed an infatuation,
that left me in bliss and I lost my grip.

Chorus:
Self-care is a difficult concept,
for someone who doesn't have a token or gift.
Nothing special to hold onto,
cut the ropes and let me drift.
All the words and pseudo-novels;
they're just hot air to give me a lift.

I have this flute in my room,
seven holes of apricot wood.
I've been meaning to make it sing,
but for you I surely would.

You've had your struggles,
and I have my burdens as well.
There's something about you.
What I can't exactly tell.
Brown hair in a bun,
those stylish glasses.

I wish I could be like you.

From the people that you meet,
to the hearts that you touch,
Well it just may be corny, but Jordan,
You got me floating up.

Chorus:
Self-care is a difficult concept,
for someone who doesn't have a token or gift.
Nothing special to hold onto,
cut the ropes and let me drift.
All the words and pseudo-novels;
they're just hot air to give me a lift.

Well, they're just hot air to give me a lift.