She writes symphony's when she speaks,
A voice that separates from the choir.
I'm shouting from the top of mountain peaks,
Balancing while crossing a tight rope wire.

Her voice carries like the word of a king,
Commanding those that choose to hear.
The bell of the ball, her voice will ring,
I'll come running until I am near.

Her charm is her strongest tool,
Like a guitar, finely tuned to proper key.
I dance to her song like a silly fool,
Only wishing that she sang about me.

The song is over, I begin to walk away,
Her performance was simply the best.
I really hope that she will stay,
For her encore is better than the rest.