So I kinda want to see if I could figure out how to play this?

Superman

I can’t stand to fly
I’m not that naïve
I’m just out to find
The better part of me

I’m more than a bird, I’m more than a plane
I’m more than some pretty face beside a train
And it’s not easy to be me

Wish that I could cry
Fall upon my knees
Find a way to lie
About a home I’ll never see

It may sound absurd, but don’t be naïve
Even heroes have the right to bleed
I may be disturbed, but won’t you concede
Even heroes have the right to dream…

Superman by Five for Fighting

(Cover by Boyce Avenue)

You Are Not Your Skin .

Paint yourself a picture
Of what you wish you looked like
Maybe then they just might
Feel an ounce of your pain

Come into focus
Step out of the shadows
It’s a losing battle
There’s no need to be ashamed…

When they start to judge you
Show them your true colors
And do onto others
As you’d have done to you

Just rise above this
Kill them with your kindness
Ignorance is blindness
They’re the ones that stand to lose

‘Cause they don’t even know you
All they see is scars
They don’t see the angel
Living in your heart

Let them find the real you
Buried deep within
Let them know with all you got
That you are not your skin.

Story of my life? Skin by Sixx:A.M. | (Beautiful cover)

Outlaws by Disciple

Do you live, do you think like they told you?
 Around your neck, can you breathe when they hold you?
 Doing what they say, a puppet on their string.
 If you do just what they want they’ll promise you about anything

 Can you believe, do you dream you could be free?
 Take your hands off your eyes so that you see
 You’re more than just a face, You’re more than just a name
 You’re more than labels that the hypocrites around you gave

Do you burn, do you bleed when they touch you?
 Do you scream in your sleep while they cut you?
 More than just pretty scars is what they want to leave
 Sit in their tattoo chair they’ll leave the Markings of a Beast

 Do you believe, do you dream you could be free?
 Take your hands off your eyes so that you see
 You’re meant to rise above, yeah, you were made to fly
 You were made to sing and dance where angels never die

To all the outlaws
 All the outcasts
 Wanna breathe?
 Come on and fly with me
 To all the locked-down, all the burned out
 You wanna be free?
 Come on and fly with me

 Say so long to whatever you once were
 Say so long to everything that you once knew
 We’re more than faces, we’re more than just names
 We’re more than labels the hypocrites gave
 We’re the affection of the Unseen
 We are the sons and daughters of the King!

(Outlaws by Disciple)

Source: youtube.com

I love to play this on piano because it seems I’m the only one who knows the words. I treat it somewhat like a prayer.

I feel like my taste in music has been constantly changing along with me. But whenever I go back to old favorites like this one from a long time ago, I flash back to those times. The first song I learned on guitar, the song I turn to when I would get discouraged and take off for the woods to go for a run, maybe going out in the rain for a run because I need it, talking with (now old) friends about all our problems and trying not to care what anyone else thinks of our failures, drawing and writing in the early hours of the morning because this song inspired me and motivated me, accurately describing how much I just wanted to scream. It seems like all of my favorite songs have some sort of memory attached to them. It makes me happy and sad all at once.

I don’t even care if that’s cheesy.

Top