If I were to tell a story
Would any of you listen
About a little girl
Three years old
Who was once
Felt as free as a bird
But grew up to be a tied down tornado
Ten year old
Not so little girl
And furthermore
Grew to be an angsty teen
Fourteen years old
Older little girl
And as the days pass
She grows a little older
And life chips away at the brick
That is her life
Until she just becomes a pile of dusty cement
Catching a ride in the wind
Would any of you listen
If I were to tell a story