You've touched these tired eyes of mine
|
And mapped my face line by line
|
And some how growing old feels fine
|
I listen close for I'm not smart
|
You wrap your thoughts and works of art
|
And there hanging on the walls of my heart.
|
|
I may not have the softest touch
|
I may not say the words as such
|
And though I may not look like much
|
I'm yours.
|
|
And though my edge is maybe rough
|
I never feel I'm quite enough
|
And it may not seem like very much
|
But I'm yours.
|
|
You healed these scars over time
|
And braced my soul, you loved my mind
|
Your the only angel in my life
|
The day the news came, my best friend died
|
My knees went weak, and you saw me cry
|
Say I'm still the soldier in your eyes.
|
|
I may not have the softest touch
|
I may not say the words as such
|
And though I may not look like much
|
I'm yours.
|
|
And though my edge is maybe rough
|
I never feel I'm quite enough
|
And it may not seem like very much
|
But I'm yours.
|
|
I may not have the softest touch
|
I may not say the words as such
|
And though I don't fit in that much
|
But I'm yours.
|
|
-----------------
|
I'm Yours
|
| The Script |
