The Girl and the Crow

The other day, I was sitting reading my newspaper

A day just like so many before

And I thought about all those dreams one dreamt

that one after another has ended

Then I saw a picture of a girl 

with a wounded crow in her arms

She is running through the forest

as fast as she possibly can

The girl is young and her hair is bright

and her cheek is flaming red

The crow is clumsy and croaking black

in a moment it will be completely dead 

But the girl, she is running for life

with a wounded crow in her arms

She is running to warmth and safety

for what is right and true

And she is running with shining eyes

she is running on scrawny legs

Cause she knows it is true, what her father said 

that if there is life, it is never too late

And I began to tremble in anguish and distress

I was shaking from horror and fear

Cause I knew quite clearly 

That it was a picture of me that I had seen

For my hope is a wounded crow

and I, a running child

who believes there is still someone who can help 

who believes there is someone with answers

And I'm running with a pounding heart

I'm running on scrawny legs

And I pray and I beg, even though I know very well

that it is all too late