When she showers her voice on my soul, I fly.

When she tells me the world is wonderful, I wonder.

The strings of her instrument tickle my skin. She’s asking if I remember her when we walked in those fields. I can still feel the west wind touches my cheeks.

Sing to me, I want my troubles to melt away like lemon drops. Keep me imprisoned behind your words, your harmony, in your memory.

Songbird, chant for me and if I fall catch me. Let me shake your hand and say time might heal my broken pride.

Here I am, I see no true colors, but I’m eager to shout, swing and take off my stained cloth. I don’t know where the time goes, when we are leaving- Perhaps our seeds will bloom and the scene will be great, but you will always inspire me.

Cassidy, thanks for inspiring me, Eva, sing high