Toothpaste and tangled hair, waking up is hard sometimes,
Days when you’re hanging by a thread and nothing seems to rhyme.
But I still love the rain clouds when they’re falling on my face,
Still love the smell of wet dust when I’m not sure of my place.
You know you can’t have sweet honey without braving a few stings,
And I don’t think I would fly away, even if you gave me wings.