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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Ben Platt
Vocals
Rob Jost
Bass
Adele Stein
Cello
Ben Cohn
Conductor
Jon Balcourt
Associate Conductor
Jamie Eblen
Drums
Dillon Kondor
Guitar
Justin Goldner
Guitar
Enrico de Trizio
Programming
Jeremy King
Synthesizer Programming
Randy Cohen
Programming
Scott Wasserman
Programming
Todd Low
Viola
Justin Smith
First Violin
Taylor Williams
Synthesizer Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Benj Pasek
Songwriter
Justin Noble Paul
Songwriter
Alex Lacamoire
Orchestrator
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Scott Skrzynski
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Ebonie Smith
Assistant Recording Engineer
Matthew Soares
Assistant Recording Engineer
Nate Odden
Assistant Recording Engineer
Ron Robinson
Assistant Recording Engineer
Tom Coyne
Mastering Engineer
Neal Avron
Mixing Engineer
Derik Lee
Recording Engineer
Alex Lacamoire
Producer
Benj Pasek
Producer
Justin Noble Paul
Producer
Lyrics
I never meant to make it such a mess
I never thought that it would go this far
So I just stand here sorry
Searching for something to say
Something to say
Words fail, words fail
There's nothing I can say
I guess I thought I could be part of this
I never had this kind of thing before
I never had that perfect girl
Who somehow could see the good part of me
I never had the dad who stuck it out
No corny jokes or baseball gloves
No mom who just was there
'Cause mom was all that she had to be
That's not a worthy explanation
I know there is none
Nothing can make sense of all these things I've done
Words fail, words fail
There's nothing I can say
Except sometimes, you see everything you wanted
And sometimes, you see everything you wish you had
And it's right there, right there, right there
In front of you
And you want to believe it's true
So you make it true
And you think maybe everybody wants it
And needs it, a little bit too
This was just a sad invention
It wasn't real, I know
But we were happy
I guess I couldn't let that go
I guess I couldn't give that up
I guess I wanted to believe
'Cause if I just believe
Then I don't have to see what's really there
No, I'd rather pretend I'm something better than these broken parts
Pretend I'm something other than this mess that I am
'Cause then I don't have to look at it
And no one gets to look at it
No, no one can really see
'Cause I've learned to slam on the brake
Before I even turn the key
Before I make the mistake
Before I lead with the worst of me
I never let them see the worst of me
'Cause what if everyone saw?
What if everyone knew?
Would they like what they saw?
Or would they hate it too?
Will I just keep on running away from what's true?
All I ever do is run
So how do I step in
Step into the sun?
Step into the sun
Writer(s): Benj Pasek, Justin Paul
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