You Need To Be Happy

The Question I Love To Get Asked Is: 'what's The Hardest Part Of Your Job?' And Literally, The Answer Is Probably Real Sad, But It's To Just To Be Me. Like, It's Really Hard, Because I Think People, You Know, Have A Set Idea Of What A Pop Star Should Be.

Seems Like Just Yesterday, You Were A Part Of Me. I Used To Stand So Tall, I Used To Be So Strong; Your Arms Around Me Tight, Everything Felt So Right - Unbreakable, Like Nothing Could Go Wrong. Now I Can't Breathe. No, I Can't Sleep; I'm Barely Hanging On. Here I Am, Once Again, I'm Torn Into Pieces. Can't Deny It, Can't Pretend, Just Thought You Were The One. Broken Up, Deep Inside, But You Won't Get To See The Tears I Cry.

I Feel Like As A Generation, We Sell Ourselves Short. I Just Expected More From Us.

This Is My Life; These Are My Fingerprints; I'm Unique; This Is What I Want To Do. You Worry About Your Own Front Porch And What's Happening In Your Own World.

I Don't Really Exude That 'it' Factor.