|
Well she's walking through the clouds
|
with a circus mind
|
that's running wild
|
Butterflies and zebras and moonbeams
|
and fairly tales,
|
|
That's all she ever thinks about...
|
|
Riding the wind
|
|
When I'm sad she comes to me
|
with a thousand smiles
|
she gives to me free
|
|
It's alright, she says,
|
it's alright,
|
Take anything you want from me,
|
anything.
|
|
Fly on, little wing.
|
|
|
|
-----------------
|
Little Wing
|
| Joe Henderson |
