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The Music In Me
I look inside the mirror
And see the person staring back at me.
Someone inside me's singing,
Singing joyfully.
She sings a song of sixpens,
Of lickin' chickens and
Stinky cheesemen.
Then she changes to a minor key
And mourns for what she's lost
And what she'll never ever see.
Requiem bells peal in perfect harmony.
I silence her then,
But I can't help but think:
"I wish I could sing like her,
Could soar to pitches both high and low,
Could start a trail of tears or summon a smile,
All with the sound of my voice."
