My Story ft. winifai

他们说颜色要涂在黑线里
那一刻起就没有所谓的游戏了
每个在框架外的色彩
我曾执著于那些边界 但我不再执著了

我的身体跟话语权什么时候被夺走了？
为什么连决定都要被干涉？
身为人 本就有失落和痛苦
但身为自己 这些是我的失败与改变

如果没有做过自己 就不能说我拥有过人生
毕竟那么多规则和习俗都帮我铺好路了
你可以说我怪或错或不合群
但我的存在不是为了符合任何定义
我不会为了迎合而妥协
也不会扮演别人帮我选好的角色
如果我真的脱离群众
至少我还能独自呼吸新鲜的空气
我没有被刺上任何“人生使用守则”
每一页都会由我来攥写 这是我的故事

他们在我能握笔前就决定我的出路了
手指上该有的戒指、名下该掌握的财产
但我对人生的目标呢？
还说著“看看他们都做到了 你怎么还比人慢？”

所谓的时间线是谁在计算？
所谓的好生活是谁说了算？
若要为了他们的眼光活著
抱歉 我不会道歉 我何必呢？

我会失败、痛哭、失去方向
（但我会获得活过的证明）
我会学习、奋斗、遵循我的规则
（用这些证明诉说这些故事、我的故事）

因为做过自己 所以能说我拥有过人生了
刻板印象跟流言蜚语也不能改变我选择的路
你可以说我怪或错或不合群
但我的存在是为了表达与定义自己
我不会为了迎合而妥协
也不会扮演别人帮我选好的角色
如果我真的脱离群众
至少我还能独自呼吸新鲜的空气
我没有被刺上任何“人生使用守则”
每一页都会由我来攥写 这是我的故事
我的故事、我的故事
我的故事、我的故事

It was never just a game
Since they printed black lines
Saying all the colours should stay inside
Every shade outside the frames
I didn’t mean it to be, but now I do
When did they own my body, shape my voice?
Or try to alter all my choices?
As a human, I was born to fall and break
But I’m mine to fail or bend
I wouldn't say I’ve ever lived since I never have my own life
When all the rules and all the customs paved my path
You can say that I am weird or wrong or out of line
But I was never made for any definition
I won't cut myself apart to fit in
I won't play the part that I was given
If I vanish from the crowd
At least I got fresh air to breathe in
There is no book of guidelines written in my skin
I’ll write every page of the story, my story
(Well, these are my perspectives)
(But, I couldn't be the only one, right?)
(There must be someone having the same thoughts)
(Ah, I'm totally with you)
They wrote my future before I held the pen
A ring on my finger, a fortune to call mine
What do they know about my purpose in life
“Look at them, they made it, so why are you behind?”
Who set the clock before I knew my time?
Who set the rules for what makes a good life?
If I spend my whole life becoming what they see
Sorry, not sorry, why should I be?
I wouldn't say I’ve ever lived since I never have my own life
When all the rules and all the customs paved my path
You can say that I am weird or wrong or out of line
But I was never made for any definition
I won't cut myself apart to fit in
I won't play the part that I was given
If I vanish from the crowd
At least I got fresh air to breathe in
There is no book of guidelines written in my skin
I’ll write every page of the story, my story
I’ll fall, I’ll cry, I’ll get lost in directions
(But I’d rather wear the scars from my detours)
I’ll learn, I’ll fight, I’ll follow my terms
(And survive to tell the story, my story)
Then I could say I have lived since I have my own life
Even if the stereotypes and whispers tried to change my path
You can say that I am weird or wrong or out of line
But I was made to speak my mind and name my definition
I won't cut myself apart to fit in
I won't play the part that I was given
If I vanish from the crowd
At least I got fresh air to breathe in
There is a book of guidelines written in my skin
Inspired by pages of the story, my story
My story, my story
My story, my story