Idioma Origen:
Well, she's walking through the clouds,
With a circus mind that's running wild.
Butterflies and zebras,
And moonbeams and the fairy tales,
That's all she ever thinks about,
Riding with the wind.
When I'm sad, she comes to me.
With a thousand smiles, she gives to me free.
'It's alright,' she says 'it's alright.'
'Take anything you want from me,
Anything.'
Fly on little wing,
Yeah, yeah, yeah, little wing.
Idioma Destino:
Well, she's walking through the clouds,
With a circus mind that's running wild.
Butterflies and zebras,
And moonbeams and the fairy tales,
That's all she ever thinks about,
Riding with the wind.
When I'm sad, she comes to me.
With a thousand smiles, she gives to me free.
'It's alright,' she says 'it's alright.'
'Take anything you want from me,
Anything.'
Fly on little wing,
Yeah, yeah, yeah, little wing.