She's the girl you'll meet for the first time at the second meeting
Again at the third
She's crazy at the first; beating out the syllables in breathless sentence
She's quiet at the second; not sure what to do with her hands
She's gentle at the third; talking of the moon, the sun, the way of the world
She's questioning who to be each time
She's questioning who she is and if that who will be accepted
She's a lost little fool within herself
But what's lost is always eventually found