Well she's walking through the clouds
with a circus mind
that's running wild
Butterflies and zebras and moonbeams
and fairly tales,
That's all she ever thinks about...
Riding the wind
When I'm sad she comes to me
with a thousand smiles
she gives to me free
It's alright, she says,
it's alright,
Take anything you want from me,
anything.
Fly on, little wing.
(Instrumental)
(Instrumental)
(Instrumental)