Well my days are persecuted upon me
In the enrichment of my ways
I try to see change as a point of view
The many friends that I have deceive me
And the truth is nothing but a lie
And the colors blue, yellow, red, and gold
Are just a figment of my imagination
I wonder why God sees me as special
For I am that same little girl who misses her mother,
I miss her so much
I can cry for all eternity
But I won\'t
Because she wants me to be stronger than the wind
Oh give me your wings, and carry me to fly
For I want to fly high.