Instrumenty
Ensembles
Opera
Kompozytorzy
Wykonawcy

Teksty: Jars Of Clay. Much Afraid. Frail.

Convinced of my deception
I've always been a fool
I fear this love reaction
Just like you said, I would

A rose could never lie
About the love it brings
And I could never promise
To be any of those things

If I was not so weak
If I was not so cold
If I was not so scared
Of being broken, growing old
I would be, I would be

Blessed are the shallow
Depth they'll never find
Seems to be some comfort
In rooms I try to hide

Exposed beyond the shadows
You take the cup from me
Your dirt removes my blindness
Your pain becomes my peace

If I was not so weak
If I was not so cold
If I was not so scared
Of being broken, growing old
I would be, I would be
I would be, I would be frail