I can't wait to sing, to smile, to be free.
The stage is calling me again, whispering my name.
I belong here with the hard wood and the microphone.
To sing is to paint, to dance, to be free.
So I'll walk on the stage and feel only joy.
Yet I hear a whisper in the crowd.
I hear a boom, no not a boom, a boo.
It's pounding through my heart, through my head, and I fear my eyes don't decive me.
Tears fall like rain and I run for the shelter of kind words.
The loud boom is gone but I know I will never return to the stage agian.
I'll cry once more for my loss, but I will not forget, for I am only ten and life will continue to dissapoint me.
Goodbye my love, my stage, I'll miss you.