Six years old, still naive, still makes the same mistake twice.
She plays life like a game of monopoly, tossing up the dice.
She’s washed away in her own little world, a dreamer at her best,
Untouched, untainted, immaculate – hidden in the nest.
Stop time now, stop it before she grows old,
Trap her innocence into a neat little mould,
Forget maturity, let her stay pure,
For when it comes to wisdom, there is no cure.
She believed in guardian angels – in spirits of brilliant light,
She believed that the “good guys” would always win the fight,
She believed she was strong enough to stand against the evil,
But her beliefs, her beliefs were lost in great upheaval.
Sixteen now with every year weighing on her shoulders,
She has locked up the pieces of her childhood into a hundred different folders,
She looks into the mirror at the monster she has become,
And lets the harshness of the world turn her anima numb,
Older now, but she’s still far too young,
A thousand melodies of her life have yet still to be sung.