Butterflies stick to the bottom of the sky.
It's clear that, like me, they just can't fly.
stuck in a glass case,
Put on display
where everyone can see
There's no chance of escape.
The world outside seems so close.
But inside my case, there's little hope
Of me ever being who I want to be.
Little by little, the caged girl becomes me.
As I watch the world outside,
The caged girl wants to cry and hide.
She sees a reflection
Shown in the glass.
A symbol of perfection,
Grace and class.
Was that girl ever me?
Or simply someone I wanted to be?