And I'm small when I whisper,
"I just feel like
I'm sitting out in a rain storm,
Holding an umbrella over a little fire
To keep the world from blowing it out,
And so far I'm succeeding,
But they're trying so very hard,
And I just don't know why
They want to blow out my my fire?
All it does is make the dark of the storm,
A little brighter."

And the little flicker of hope in my heart
Responds so brightly,
I almost forget about my fire.
"Because," She says, "You're strong enough to handle it."
"And if the worlds adds more shrapnel to your pyre,
You will have to burn all the brighter."

So I'll sit out in the rainstorm,
With an umbrella and a cold,
Protecting this little fire,
And I think I'll be okay.