The walls of the halls are

Stark, white, narrow


But they're the bone to her marrow


Her chances are slim

And her eyes are wide

Her mind is set

But her dream she does hide


The walls of the halls are


She is a doe

Who emerges a deer

Darting through the forest

Swimming a mountain upstream


Back and forth

Forth and back

Everything feels narrow

But it's the bone to her marrow


No more average Joe

Now she's donned a silver bow

Aim the ambitious arrow

Let go



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