Little girl with the pretty face,
Why do you let them put you in your place?
You follow their lead like a dog in the park,
But every time you run to them, they break your bleeding heart.
In a land not far from here --
And not too long ago,
You were a thing of substance;
You held some control.
But now life has you beaten,
Head upon your knees.
Though you know no one listens,
You beg and cry and plead.
Don't let them hold you down;
Rise up to your knees.
You may not have the strength to run,
But there's always time to dream.
