Why do we
want to be
ballerinas when we grow up
when we grow up
little boys dream the night away
with fighting fires
when we grow up
torlege releve rondejambe
and found and up
found and up
firemen slide on down the pole and sound
the siren
everybody up
all is well in my sorrow
isnt she a beauty
burning hall
ash and shadow
here comes the hero
little eyes
small but wide
young but wiser
all looking up
all looking up
for your hat
and your axe
and your yellow jacket
daddy get up
ash to ash dust to dust
none could muster
daddy get up
daddy get up
they see what you couldnt do
when consumed by fire
days glow
sleep in the hollow
dreams in the hollow
pesky old crow
heather and thistle
no prints to follow
hope that they follow
hopes all they know
all is well in my sorrow
isnt she a beauty
burning hall
ash and shadow
here comes the hero
oh i tried to put it out
but the big tree was falling
and now i find him reaching out
but the big tree it fell
cross the sea
her dancing broken dream
so im lacing up
im lacing up
for musing starts
in broken hearts
the most courageous beauty
so im lacing up
mothers milk
ragged silk
chalks in the hall tree
tattered toe shoes
broken toes
releve turn and pray
for mothers broken dancer
days glow..
all is well..