Through My Window

When I grow up I want to be a painter

Acrylics and oils all over my fingers

I can picture myself as a little old lady

Long grey hair pulled back in a braid

Sitting by a windowpane

Nothing to do but stand and stare

Blank white canvas hanging there

All my hippy trees and swirly guitars

Morph into a landscape of stars

Watching the world go by

Feeling the warm sunshine

Watching the world go by

Feeling the warm sunshine

Through my window

When I grow up, If I grow up

I won't give up at all

When I grow up, I won't give up

If I grow up at all

When I grow up, If I grow up

I won't give up at all

When I grow up, I won't give up

If I grow up at all

Watching the world go by

Feeling the warm sunshine

Watching the world go by

Feeling the warm sunshine

Through my window