This is my skin with lines holding stories
Spots on my cheek and frowns from worries
Circles under the eyes from a thousand nights in a drowse
The dirt on my hands and pipe-dreams all muddy
The smell of effort from my sweat soaked body
And strict furrows left by my knitted brows
These are my stretch-marks for trying to suffice
And grey strands of hair when I compromise
My unruly curls that tangle up on messy days
I show the dimples of joy and puckers of pain
Concealing the marks makes it all in vain
Some days hit unevenly and slip sideways
I carry my blemish
My traces and scars
As a proof that I've tried
Let my back be straight and proud
Let my conscience be relieved
Let my back be straight and proud
Let my conscience be relieved
Let my voice ring clear and loud
I don't regret to have lived
There's a norming of laughter and evening of tears
My wrinkles assure that it won't disappear
There's a crick in my shoulders from carrying the weight
I tend the shaming wounds from adversity
As well as adorning scars from prosperity
It all takes part in the victories I celebrate
I carry my blemish
My traces and scars
As a proof that I've tried
Let my back be straight and proud
Let my conscience be relieved
Let my back be straight and proud
Let my conscience be relieved
Let my voice ring clear and loud
I don't regret to have lived
Let my back be straight and proud
Let my conscience be relieved
Let my back be straight and proud
Let my conscience be relieved
I don't regret, don't regret to have lived
I don't regret, don't regret to have lived
I don't regret, don't regret to have lived
To have lived, to have lived, to have lived, to have lived
I don't regret, don't regret to have lived
I don't regret, don't regret to have lived
No, no, no, no, no, no
Don't, don't, don't, don't
I don't regret to have lived