I’ve never been great at writing silly love songs,
Never believed in it at all,
Prince charming and white horses were the impossible truths in my world,
The sky was my reason not to fly,
I used to believe that if you needed answers all you had to do was look down,
So why am I looking up at fireworks?

My friends walked on rainbows that stretched on into nowhere,
You can hear love songs on every station, but not one of them has a real home,
Home is where the heart is, at least that’s what I’ve been told,
But here is where you are, and that’s where I belong,
So don't call me crass,
A label of unfathomable fate,
But I am not a child, strung up on thoughtless hopes and dreams of a perfect world,
I am just glad to find joy in falling blind into a sea of butterflies