My soul sings and I wish you could hear its song,

but I’m not the bird for you.

Leave me to the trees and flowers and colors you can’t see,

I was born to give life to worlds you’ll never understand.

My spirit is gentle, but my soul is hot,

I was born like this.

It’s hard when someone can’t see you,

can’t hear your song.

I’ve never made myself smaller for anyone,

and I’m not about to stop singing now.

Too many have traded their soul for acceptance,

and I’ll never be one of them.