She climbed on stage anxiously
Blow of the wind bursting free
In every step meant for thee
She ought to handle perfectly
Roar of the crowd rushing wild
Knees trembling like that of a child
Made her come back to the day she was born.
When all went well with a rhythmic tone
When in time she felt very much alone
The voice that came fresh from within
Turned her to this person so awfully mean
She grabbed that mic and made attempt
Compelling herself to explain what it meant
Uttering, she whispers on the wing
“Not all with the Voice, Sings”
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