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Gente

Jonathan McReynolds

People

They are the best and the worst You've created
Loving and hating and opinionated
Loners in basements and those congregated
Deliver me

Far from the peaceful shore I was sinking
Deep in the ocean of thoughts they were thinking
Don't know what validation I was seeking
Deliver me from

People, people
When You said You could heal me from many things
Did You mean
People, people
Deliver me

'Cause I can't point 'em out
I won't say their names
I don't know the damage
Or which one to blame
It's just people, people
Deliver me

She was the reason I smiled in the morning
He took the last bit of joy I was storing
That's too much power for anything human
Deliver me from

People, people
I know You can heal me from many things
What about
People, people
Deliver me

'Cause I can't point 'em out
I won't say their names
I don't know the damage
Or which one to blame
It's just people, people
Deliver me, yeah

The hurt are hurting
And the broken are breaking
And the ones who had their joy taken away
Are out here taking from other

People, people
People, people
Forgive these
People, people
Heal me from
People, people

Crazy
People, people
Trolling
People, people
Self-righteous
People, people
Entitled
People, people

Hating, lying
People, people
Disrespectful
People, people
Forgive me when I'm of those
People, people
Deliver me

Gente

Son lo mejor y lo peor que has creado
Amorosos y odiadores y con opiniones
Solitarios en sótanos y los congregados
Líbrame

Lejos de la costa pacífica me estaba hundiendo
Profundo en el océano de pensamientos que tenían
No sé qué validación estaba buscando
Líbrame de

Gente, gente
Cuando dijiste que podías sanarme de muchas cosas
¿Te referías a
Gente, gente
Líbrame

Porque no puedo señalarlos
No diré sus nombres
No sé el daño
O a quién culpar
Son solo gente, gente
Líbrame

Ella fue la razón por la que sonreía por la mañana
Él se llevó la última pizca de alegría que guardaba
Eso es demasiado poder para algo humano
Líbrame de

Gente, gente
Sé que puedes sanarme de muchas cosas
¿Qué hay de
Gente, gente
Líbrame

Porque no puedo señalarlos
No diré sus nombres
No sé el daño
O a quién culpar
Son solo gente, gente
Líbrame, sí

Los heridos están lastimando
Y los rotos se están rompiendo
Y los que les quitaron su alegría
Están aquí tomando de otros

Gente, gente
Gente, gente
Perdona a estos
Gente, gente
Sáname de
Gente, gente

Locos
Gente, gente
Troleando
Gente, gente
Autojustificados
Gente, gente
Con derecho
Gente, gente

Odiando, mintiendo
Gente, gente
Irrespetuosos
Gente, gente
Perdóname cuando soy uno de esos
Gente, gente
Líbrame

Escrita por: Jonathan McReynolds