The sun would kiss my feet,
If I were bold enough to ask him to,
But I’m not that cruel, my love.
And I would ask you not to judge me,
For the color of my hair,
Or the tone in my voice,
But I know you will, my love.
So I’ll walk across these flames,
Tell the muses not to whisper your name,
And find myself sitting on the moon,
Singing with the stars.