you ripped my heart out, put it on a platter
for all the people to watch, and then they all scatter
(n) I'm left here beating on my own
[ (n) (I) guess it doesn't matter, guess it doesn't matter, guess it doesn't matter at all] x2
beauty was a bystander, boxing gloves and eyeliner
give a girl a medal and move on
you think you're throwing fast balls but really they're just fistfulls
of glitter and space and imaginary tastes
[(n) I should be running through the grass, digging in the sand, feeling all the heat] x2
but hearts on a platter are the only ones that matter
cause they ain't got no oxygen or proof
vulnerable as hell, cut off from the well
everyone cheering them on, maybe writing a new song
well good for them, guts for glory, guts for glory, guts for glory, guts for glory, guts for glory, my guts for glory and
[Beauty doesn't matter, beauty doesn't matter, beauty doesn't matter, at all] x2
aint got no blood coursing through my veins
it's all in my heart, all in (my) (the) way
and things like the morning dew sweet tea and I Love You's
will they come back to me, will they come back to me, will they come back to me true
[ (n) (I) guess it doesn't matter, guess it doesn't matter, guess it doesn't matter at all] x2
“A rose in a desert can only survive on its strength, not its beauty.”
― Matshona Dhliwayo
