Our struggles bring us a lifetime of half-won dreams but in knowing what struggle means, there's a chance that hope is waiting. I worked so hard, cause they told me to work so hard, but somehow I found my way to the beginning. At the end of my life, their story never proven right, a feeling my proud committed eyes are far from admitting. There's something wrong, with the things I've seen, the more I worked for them the less I lived for me. The call was strong, I was bred to pass it along, but somehow I found my way to the beginning. The neat home I made, and phone calls to children raised. I'm alone at the moment I decide it's time to start living. A possession from birth. Then traded in my teens, never developed a self and I'm waiting. Please don't be afraid to tell your story, we're caught up in our lives but we're listening. You're not the only one who feels something missing. We're all smiling, but we think the same thing. I tried so hard, I dreamed we could get so far, but somehow I found my way to the beginning. The mistakes I made, and freedom I had to trade, while thinking was the only crime that I was committing. Please don't be afraid to tell your story, we're caught up in our lives but we're listening. You're not the only one who feels something missing. We're all smiling but we think the same thing.