Beauty I find in the sorrow of the girl,
she stares at the ground, twirling long golden curls.
Beauty I find in her fallen face.
Beauty even as she fades.
I see it all, the light of the sun,
in the dark of the night, in the fields we run.
I don't believe in true love, or fairy tales, or dream come true,
but I believe that the sky is the most beautiful blue,