I could’ve been a window washer
I could be the one who lets in the sun
But I learned to feel the pressure
To think about streaks and not forget the corners

I could’ve been a miracle worker
But the magic was locked inside perfection
I tried to be a freedom fighter
But the harder I fought, the stronger was my prison

Take me down to the river and wash me clean
When will I not try not to try
Take me up to the mountains and set me free
Let me be revealed

Well I’d like to be a first-rate mother
I’d like to love my child beyond all understanding
But I’m scared, ‘cause I haven’t met her
What if she’s ugly, or a failure, what if nobody likes her

And I think she feels mistrusted
She’s afraid to be born, afraid of what awaits her
We’re quite a pair, the two of us
Her barely treading water and me wondering if I should save her

I once had a pen that wrote in magic ink
I’d write myself a letter and I’d take it to the sink
I didn’t have to scrub or work or worry or fear
The water flowed over and a message from me to me just appeared