I am not perfect, I make mistakes,
but no one knows how much it takes
to be myself in a world not mine
where all I feel is undefined.
The world’s of steal, I can’t be wood,
in two I’d break if I just could,
but I’m just one, I am myself
when darkness falls over the shelf.
The night is long, the books are there
to tell a story that should prepare
this little soul that hides in me
for the day you come, when I’ll be free.
You’ll make me dream above this sky,
you make me laugh, you make me cry
and still there will be no “good-bye”
’cause only you can make me fly.