too bad you knew me
when i wasn't ready
and i wasn't ready, did i say "come and get me?"
too bad i held on
when you tried to tell me this was wrong
well, is this wrong?

i am no masterpiece where innocence is painted green
and isn't strange to think that you created all of me?

done by the hands of a broken artist
you painted black where my naked is
i finally know what "wrong" is
now i finally know that you bleed for nothing
carved like a stone with your hands still shakin'
on display through a soul still breakin'
aren't you proud you're the one that made me?
aren't you proud you're the one that made me?

and you can't erase these lines, you can't save me
you can't display me, oh, you know what dismay means
i can't even try to remember what i knew
before i became your model to claim no

and i am no masterpiece, so strange that you made all of me

and i grew tired
and you expired
oh, you finished me
and now that i'm all that you planned
well, tell me what do you think?

too bad you knew me, when i wasn't ready
i am no masterpiece at all..