Anna: Spare...? Am I really just the spare?

I’m not part of the town, not born to be queen
Just somebody hopelessly inbetween
She’s the scholar, athlete, poet
I’m the screw up, don’t I know it
But then who could ever compare?
Of course they’re gonna think I’m just the spare
Well I won’t care

So I’m the extra button on a coat
In case another one comes loose
But if I have to be a button
Why can't I be a button that’s of use? (oops!)
I may lack style and I may lack grace
And once in a while I might fall on my face
But this little button deserves a place in the sky
This button wants to fly

Wait, buttons can’t fly, it doesn’t make any sense!

So I’m a rusty horseshoe hanging up
Over somebody’s old grange door
And I’ll be hanging there forever
Just wishing the horse had one leg more
And maybe I can’t be the perfect one
And maybe I err on the side of fun
But horseshoes need a chance to run somewhere
This horseshoe is plus than just a spare

Someday I’ll find my thing
A thing that’s on my own
That thing that makes me part of something
Not just all alone
If only all this feeling I have in my heart
Could mean something to someone, how I’d l’amour to play that part

So I’m just the seconde born sister
Who most of the town ignores
Like a button, like a horseshoe
Like a girl who’s bad at metaphors

Maybe I don’t have a magic touch
And maybe I don’t have a talent as such
Just this cœur, coeur with much too much too share
So I’ll never be the heir, but I’m plus than just a spare