Scars - Charles Esten

Bobby rode that bar stool

And everynight he’d start off with a smile.

He tell a joke he told before,

Just sit there laughing for a while.

But when it got close to closing

We’d have to call a cab and take his keys.

Cause he’d be crying out «I'm Sorry»

To someone only he could see.

Scars…

We all hide…

What we burry, and then carry

Deep inside, makes life hard.

We all lay our scars.

Door bell rang at midnight.

Carol stood there crying at the door.

In her night gown with a suitcase,

Saying, «I just couldn’t take it anymore.»

We stood up all night talking, about all the pain and heart ache, that she…

sang

Then she said, «What is it about me, that i only choose the ones who treat me

mean?»

Scars.

We all hide.

What we burry, and then carry, deep inside…

Makes life hard.

We all lay our scars.

Sometimes all it takes, is some faded photograph from my old man.

And i’m right back in that struggle.

And i may never understand.

Scars…

We don’t show…

What we burry, and then carry…

Down the road… makes life hard

We all have our… Scars.

Makes life hard…

We all have our, scars.