Cue the girl, the one who’s lost and wandering the streets of this old world.
She’s act one, two, and three — better yet — she’s the only one we’ll keep.
We’ll watch her do her thing: stumble to the ground and lose her voice to sing.
After that, make her do her dance, because scraped knees and toes look better in that stance.
Have her keep her own time, though; just throw out the metronomes with her broken rhymes,
Because she won’t need what she came here with. No, we’re all too willing and well equipped.
Black and blue, she’ll be our only cue — ready for every show — rain, sleet, or darkened snow.
We’ll make her twirl — ’til every curtain’s fall and broken call — we’ll make her twirl.
– Brittany Rose