There she comes, low and behold!
With chains 'round her neck, and
Blood flowing down her forehead.
She enters, with bleeding feet,
On a land of thorns, with handcuffed wrists.
People gathered around and so did the murmurs
The ones who were smiling, cursed the most.
While, crying ones blessed with their heart at best.
Everyone knew what she did,
She killed her freedom and her dreams,
Now with all these strings and ties,
Will she ever be again able to fly?