Every tree has got a root,
every girl, forbidden fruit,
and got her demons.
And the path I chose to go,
a different girl so long ago,
I had my reasons.
And she's in my head so loud,
screaming,
"Shouldn't you be proud
of what you came from?
Oh, you've been crippled,
and you've walked,
and you've been shut up,
and you've talked,
so let's talk some more."
Where is the hand
for me to reach?
Where is the moral
I'll ever teach myself?
In all the black,
in all the grief,
I am redeemed.
And it's ripping at my heart,
because I'm dodging all the darts,
and on a slow train.
And then I'll wear it til it tatters
and it shatters on the floor
in instant replay.
Oh, we're all rotten
and we're pure,
and we're just looking
for the cure
that feels like
spring snow.
And all we have is
who we are,
and where we've been
got us this far,
so let me go.
In all the black,
in all the grief,
through all the pain,
and unbelief,
these are the words
that they all scream:
I am redeemed.