when i was a young girl
trying to find her way above the tree tops, the tree tops, the tree tops
i did not care
i did not care what they called me
what they called me
no, i did not care
i should not care what they called me
what they called me
i'll float above the ocean
the sun above is burning my head
i will grow wings and fly everywhere
butter warm clouds are dripping into my mouth
tasting of golden
- Eisley's Treetops
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1 comment:
go ahead. =o)
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