She lives on the floor below,
and when she passes by me,
her hair smells of jasmine and snow.

Wish I could let her know
the things in her I can see,
the girl that lives below.

I hear her come and go,
and wish that it was with me.
So hard to tell her so.

She has my heart in tow,
when our sleeves brush so sweetly.
Do her cheeks blush and glow?

With the tap of her white cane though,
her secret's out and free.
You see she is blind and so....

I must let her know,
that she is blind just like me,
but I can see her though,
the girl that lives below.