Saw this on my grandma’s fridge. Me and my sisters (I’m the evil looking bitch in the middle with the maniacally folded hands).
He’s a troubled boy with fear in his cheeks
and heart break in his finger tips.
Oh, but when he smiles, and those cheeks illuminate,
all I see is courage, all I see is faith.
Oh, but when he touches you,
and entwines his fingers with yours,
all I feel is love, all I feel is promise.
He’s just a troubled boy who hides behind the moon’s curtain,
too afraid to play on stage with the stars.