It’s funny to think that a couple weeks ago I was sitting on my bedroom floor going through some old boxes and and found this old notebook and I remembered what I left in the past and what I was born to do (Verse 1(•ૢ⚈͒⌄⚈͒•ૢ)(•ૢ⚈͒⌄⚈͒•ૢ) Sitting cross-legged on the carpet blue Dusty old notebook staring through Pages bent like time’s tattoo [Prechorus] I almost forgot the fire inside How the words would burn and collide [Chorus] I was born to write born to dream To chase the echoes of what I mean Every line a spark every page a scream I was born to write born to dream [Verse 2] Flipping through scribbles that made no sense But every word felt like consequence The world’s smallest stage my defense [Prechorus] I almost forgot the rhythm’s sway How it carried me night and day [Chorus] I was born to write born to dream To chase the echoes of what I mean Every line a spark every page a scream I was born to write born to dream
