Every scar I made, Every step astray, Was a map to a brighter day. Piece by piece in the echo of time, Loose old chains from the back of my mind. Graffiti angels on concrete walls, whisper truths when the system falls. In a city of echoes we’re calling out loud, Trying to get lost... in the middle of the crowd. All the weight that tried to break me, only came to rearrange me. Now I know the person I am. Every scar tissue has signed its name. This city, this life of mine, will be the fortress of my spine. We’re just sparks in the dark so far, every little soul is a shooting star. I wish upon the shining light, but every broken dream spins around... Till it finds a place… in the underground. All the weight that tried to break me, only came to rearrange me. Now I know the person I am, every scar tissue has signed its name. This city, this life of mine, will be the fortress of my spine. Graffiti angels. This city’s teeth. Graffiti angels. This city’s scars. Graffiti angels. This city’s teeth. Graffiti angels. This city’s scars. All the weight that tried to break me, only came to shape and bend me. Now I know the person I am, every scar tissue has signed its name. This city, this life I claim, Is the fortress of my name.
