When you look before the last
Solid piece
Behind your back,
Know what once you always knew.
Miracles have chosen you.
You know I want it so bad.
To make memories out of lack once had.
To make way for the keys.
Of the locks given back.
You know I want it so bad.
For the chase
and the hunt.
To spare this calf.
For the endangered to be
Shown their path.
You know I want it so bad.
Written by my daughter, Helena Sol.