You don't have to prove to me you're beautiful to strangers, I've got loving eyes of my own.
It's like The Mold in Dr. Florey's Coat, about the discovery of penicillin. Out of these strange accidents come huge discoveries. A certain purple bleeds into red and all of a sudden you have something unexpected.
I just want to show off my scar proudly and not be afraid of it.
But I'm lost when it comes to you.
I've learned that nobody's perfect, and I don't expect myself to be perfect anymore.
You know, people want to honor me, and on the one hand I just don't want to be a poster child; but on the other, I want to do something classy and great - something where the residuals will go to the cause.